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THE 

HAPPY CHRISTIAN, 

OR, 

PIETY THE ONLY FOUNDATION OF TRUE AND 
SUBSTANTIAL JOY; 

BY 

J. B. WATERBURY; 

Author of " Advice to a Young Christian," &c. 



" Rejoice in the Lord always. 




N E W - Y O R K : 
PUBLISHED BY WM. ROBINS 

(successor to leavitt, lord & CO.) 

180 BROADWAY. 

BOSTON: 

CROCKER & BREWSTER, 

47 WASHINGTON-STREET. 

183 8. A 



ON, 






Entered, 

According to the Act of Congress, in the year 1838, by 

WILLIAM ROBINSON, 

in the Clerk's Office of the Southern District of 

New- York. 



^6^^ ^ 



J. F. Trow, Piiiit«r. 



PREFACE. 

The unexpected favor with which the religious 
public received the *' Advice to a Young Chris- 
tian" — the author's first production — induces the 
hope that, after the lapse of several years, some 
additional observations on practical religion from 
the same pen, may not be unacceptable. 

This little book, though designed for all classes 
of readers, was written, it must be confessed, with 
an eye rather to the young ; whether professors or 
non-professors. The former, it is hoped, may be 
stimulated by it to greater activity in the divine 
life ; and the latter, by the accompanying convic- 
tion of the Holy Spirit, be persuaded that piety is 
the only foundation of true and substantial joy. 

If this sequej to the ** Advice," following in the 
wake of its humble predecessor, shall but serve — 
like the life-boat in the storm — to rescue from 
impending danger, any who were induced by the 
former to steer for the port of peace, it will afford 
its author the most heart-felt satisfaction, 

J. B. W, 

Hudson, May, 1838. 



CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER I. P,g, 

Piety vindicated from the charge of gloom, . . 5 

CHAPTER II. 
Piety gives more joys thau it takes away, . . 12 

CHAPTER III. 
The adaptation of religion to all the soul's desires, 19 

CHAPTER IV. 
The joy of true piety, 36 

CHAPTER V. 
Pious joy enjoined in the Scriptures, . . .33 

CHAPTER VI. 

The foundation of pious joy, 40 

CHAPTER VII. 
The joy of believing in God, ..... 47 

CHAPTER VIII. 
Pious joy connected with proper conceptions of the 
Divine character, 54 

CHAPTER IX. 

The relation of pious joy to the doctrine of Providence, 60 
CHAPTER X. 

The joy of salvation, 68 

CHAPTER XL 

Joyful promises, 76 

CHAPTER XII. 

Joyful prospects, 83 

CHAPTER XIII. 

Obstructions to pious joy, 90 

CHAPTER XIV. 
Constant contact with the world unfavorable to pious 
joy, 91 



11 CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER XV. 

The same subject continued, ..... 104 

CHAPTER XVI. 
The pursuit of riches unfavorable to a Christian's 

happiness, Ill 

CHAPTER XVII. 

Social and business pledges sometimes obstructions to 

a Christian's joy. — Social pledges, , . . 119 

CHAPTER XVIII. 

Business pledges, 127 

CHAPTER XIX. 

The influence of light reading opposed to the progress 

of piety, 135 

CHAPTER XX. 

The spirit of controversy opposed to the exercise of 
pious joy, . 142 

CHAPTER XXI. 

Circumstances favorable to the promotion of pious joy, 150 

CHAPTER XXII. 
The useful Christian happy, 158 

CHAPTER XXIII. 
The joy of contentment, 165 

CHAPTER XXIV. 
Submission, 173 

CHAPTER XXV. 
Joy in death, 181 

CHAPTER XXVI. 
Conclusion, , 190 



ERRATA. 

P. 43, 1. 7, for '' bore" read drove.. 
P. 138, 1. 11, for '' Is it" read It is> 



CHAPTER I. 

PIETY VINDICATED FROM THE CHARGE OF 
GLOOM. 

"Religion makes men gloomy," says the 
thoughtless votary of the world. This allega- 
tion, if true, would be a very reasonable ground 
of prejudice against true piety ; but it is made, 
as we shall see, without proper discrimination 
respecting its nature and influence. 

He who brings this charge, judges merely 
from the serious expression of countenance 
which many professors of religion wear, and 
from the voluntary relinquishment of the gaye- 
ties of life, which is observed to take place 
when they unite with ihe Church of God. No 
estimation is made of the grand equivalent 
which piety gives for the renunciation of such 
vanities. Men look only at the Cross. They 
take their views from the self-denial and the 
labors which he who bears it is called upon to 
1* 



6 PIETY VINDICATED FROM 

meet. They have no standard to judge by but 
their own experience, or rather, they seem not 
to adopt any other ; and finding their own joy 
— and, we may add, their only joy — to be in- 
separable from the pleasures and the honors of 
the world, they conclude, that he who volunta- 
rily foregoes them for the sake of religion must 
of necessity be condemned to a life of despon- 
dency and gloom. 

But has it never occurred to those who 
bring this charge, that since they have not 
themselves made a practical experiment of the 
influence of piety, they are not properly quali- 
fied judges in the case ? By the laws of God, 
we are permitted to seek the highest amount 
of true fehcity of which our nature is suscepti- 
ble. Does this felicity lie in the path of the 
pleasurist and the worldling ? Then would the 
Christian be unwise for travelling out of it, and 
deserve to feel the depression, and to be cov- 
ered with the gloom which are so unjustly as- 
cribed to him. He would be warranted, it 
might almost be said, in retracing his steps ; in 



THE CHARGE OF GLOOM. 7 

hastening away from a region, where, accord- 
ing to the supposition, no sun-light falls upon 
his path, nor fragrant flower blooms to enliven 
it ; but where every step is planted with thorns 
to pierce his feet as he explores his melancholy 
way to the promised rest. 

Whilst such is the picture of a life of piety 
which fills the imagination of the gay world, 
their own path, they would have us understand, 
is one perpetual series of delights. It is im- 
pHed in their allegation, that no shadows fall 
around their paradise, nor a thorn obtrudes 
from that bed of roses on which they profess 
to recline. We shall not stop here to settle 
the question — how far these scenes are a mere 
fancy sketch, nor at present disallow the claim 
to happiness which the pleasurist and worldling 
prefer. If they can, in the sincerity of their 
souls, affirm that these pleasures make them as 
happy as they desire to be, we shall not just 
now put any questions, nor make any appeals 
with a view to overshadow so agreeable a 
prospect. 



» PIETY VINDICATED FROM 

The aim of the writer is rather, to vindicate 
piety from an unjust aspersion, viz., that she 
robes her followers in gloom and sadness. 
That she makes them serious we do not deny ; 
but there is a wide difference between sobriety 
and melancholy. Sobriety is not opposed to 
cheerfulness, though it is to levity. Cheerful- 
ness abounds every where in the works of God ; 
but levity no where, except in the bosom and 
on the countenance of the thoughtless ; and 
there, it is not the legitimate expression of 
God's image, but the evidence and the efferves- 
cence of sin. The lark is cheerful, as it mounts 
from its grassy nest, and soars away to the 
heavens, singing as it goes. Cheerful also, is 
the summer morning, revealing its glad scenery, 
as the rising sun gilds one feature after another 
of the landscape. Nature in all this, has a les- 
son for man. She teaches him that piety, in 
inculcating cheerfulness, whilst she rebukes 
levity, is but a faithful response to her own em- 
phatic instructions. 

They mistake, depend upon it, wlio interpret 



THE CHARGE OF GLOOM. 9 

a serious face as the index of a heavy heart. 
It is excessive mirth that leaves the heart sad ; 
since, in this latter case, the depression w^hich 
invariably succeeds, is but the re-payment 
which nature demands for violence done to her 
moral pow^ers. 

We might enlarge on this point, and show 
that the perpetual draft which the pleasurist 
makes on the excitability of the physical consti- 
tution is directly adverse to happiness, if not 
destructive of health ; and, on the other hand, 
we could easily make it appear, that the sere- 
nity and composure of the Christian — mis- 
named gloom and melancholy — are in unison 
with the physical improvement as well as the 
moral condition of man. It was on this prin- 
ciple, doubtless, that our Savior said, " Blessed 
are the meek for they shall inherit the earth." 
It might in this way be proved that, upon stri- 
king the balance of mere physical happiness be- 
tween the serious Christian and the gay, un- 
thinking child of levity, there would be a deci- 
ded advantage in favor of the former. 



10 PIETY VINDICATED FROM 

Thus it appears that piety is not to be blamed 
for making her friends and followers serious, if 
thereby she make them happier. Let her not 
again be accused of making them, gloomy. 
Religion make the soul gloomy ! O, there is 
nothing but this in the wide universe which can 
really dispel its gloom. If the heart be heavy 
and sad from the burden of temporal afflic- 
tion, or from the pressure of conscious guilt, 
where can it find a remedy but in religion ? 
You may take that burdened heart to the 
haunts of pleasure, and try to enliven it by sal- 
lies of wit, by the fascinations of beauty, or by 
the excitement of the revel. Vain will be your 
attempt. You are not allaying — you are only 
aggravating the disorder. There is but one in- 
fluence which can effectually reach and relieve 
that heart, or drive from that anxious counte- 
nance its look of deep despondency. Religion 
can do it. It is her province alone to medicate 
the wounds of our disordered nature, and to 
send the glow of spiritual health through the 
soul. And when she comes to perform her 



THE CHARGE OP GLOOM. 11 

work of love and mercy, she first, like her 
great Author, enters the polluted temple of the 
heart, and with a scourge, drives out the intru- 
der, and then consecrates it by her presence 
and illuminates it by her own heavenly smile. 

Something, it is true, must be allowed for 
the varying temperaments upon which piety 
exerts its influence. The constitutionally leth- 
argic man might not exhibit his piety in so al- 
luring a light as one who by nature possesses 
a mirthful and elastic mind. But even in the 
former, a close observer will discover an at- 
tractive gleam which the Sun of righteousness 
has flung upon the native dulness of the char- 
acter ; whilst in the latter, the excessive buoy- 
ancy is chastened into a reasonable and happy 
flow of spirits. But in a//, the influence of 
piety is to spread cheerfulness over the soul ; 
and, by giving it the hopes and prospects of 
heaven, to introduce into it some of its antici- 
pated joys. 



CHAPTER II. 

PIETY GIVES MORE JOYS THAN IT TAKES AWAY. 

Not to enlarge on the unreasonableness of 
expecting that in every case piety will so alter 
the natural disposition, as to make the melan- 
choKc invariably cheerful, and reduce the diver- 
sified temperaments of men to one uniform 
tone ; we may now consider another point con- 
nected with the charge that " religion makes its 
possessors gloomy," viz., that it requires them 
to forsake the pleasures and gayeties of the 
world. 

By these pleasures is meant the ordinary 
worldly amusements which, with almost com- 
mon consent, Christians have felt it their duty 
to relinquish. Some professors whose belief 
and practice are not intended to be very strict, 
have, we know, mingled unscrupulously in such 
scenes, and partaken of such pleasures. But 
we are now speaking of the truly pious — of 



PIETY GIVES MOKE JOYS, ETC. 13 

those whose religion not only forbids, but pow- 
erfully dissuades from their indulgence. In this 
latter case, the relinquishment is not a forced 
but a voluntary act. It is not so much the co- 
ercion of stern duty, as the sweet constraint of 
an honest, heart-felt preference of better things, 
This is placing the subject in its true light ; 
and in this way we maintain that piety gives 
more joys than it takes away. 

It is not the intention of the writer to assert, 
that there is no felicity whatever in the plea- 
sures which a gay and thoughtless world have 
planned and are pursuing ; for if there were 
none, why should they be sought, and why are 
they continued ? The aim of all is to secure 
in some form that happiness which the soul of 
man naturally craves. It is with the hope of 
satisfying this desire of the heart, that the 
invention is tasked to furnish a sufficient variety 
of social and animal gratifications whereby the 
mind may be excited and its depressing thoughts 
and anxieties driven away. In part the plan 
is successful. There is a certain amount of 
2 



14 PIETY GIVES MORE JOYS 

pleasure experienced in the anticipation and 
enjoyment of these things, although the most 
eager votary, it is probable, would confess, 
that there v^as not so much real felicity as the 
inexperienced generally imagine. But in this 
case, the heart has never tasted of purer and 
more soul-satisfying delights. The round of 
social festivity and amusement is the only cir- 
cle in which it has revolved ; and these artifi- 
cial pleasures the only or the principal ones 
which it has been taught to covet and appro- 
priate. 

Now, how impossible, that one schooled only 
in these entertainments, should be able to form 
a correct judgement of the pleasures of true 
piety, since the latter have not only never been 
enjoyed, but are of a nature so different from 
those which have been alluded to ! 'Tis as if 
you were to ask a native of the frozen zone, 
who had never been out of sight of the eternal 
snows which mantle those repulsive regions, 
for an opinion of the warmer climes where 
pature is so lavish of her charms. He might 



THAN IT TAKES AWAY. 15 

expatiate on the attractions of his own home, 
and talk of its superiority to all other scenes ; 
and he might recoil at the idea of a transfer to 
a more genial region ; but surely if his foot 
never trod the flowery path of the tropics, he 
would be a very inadequate judge of the bright 
suns and fragrant beauties which their inhab- 
itants experience. 

Without denying to the pleasurist some of the 
felicity which he claims — alas, how inadequate 
— we ask him to correct his judgement as to 
the happiness of the pious ; no longer to fling 
upon religion the unjust charge that she is the 
cause of gloom ; nor suppose that, because she 
calls us from the region which he occupies, to 
one more salubrious and cheering, she thereby 
cuts us off* from the felicities of life. 

But, suppose even that piety abridged its 
disciples of every earthly pleasure, and gave 
them only a cup of suffering, still it might with 
reason be maintained, that in view of her eter- 
nal rewards, the disciple would be infinitely the 
gainer. Such iims, in a great degree, the case 



16 PIETY GIVBS MORE JOYS 

with the primitive Christians. But no gloom 
or despondency hung around their brows. One 
of them could exclaim, " I glory in infirmity." 
In view of heavy afflictions he could say, " I do 
rejoice, yea, and will rejoice." The point be- 
fore us is, that piety gives more joys, and purer 
than she takes away. We hope in the course 
of our remarks this will appear ; and whilst it 
may be our duty to expose the unworthy com- 
promise with the world, which some professors 
of religion are attempting to make, we shall 
aim to show that there is nothing in piety to 
curtail our true felicity ; but, on the contrary, 
that she bestows a glorious equivalent for all 
the self-denials which she lays upon her disci- 
ples. Too often is this feature of our religion 
overlooked ; and hence the incorrect judge- 
ment which is sometimes formed of its influence 
upon the happiness of man. 

Religion is viewed by the unreflecting son and 
daughter of pleasure, as a stern and forbidding 
monster, who wears an iron visage, and holds 
in his hand a rod of anger ; who couies to 



THAN IT TAKES AWAY. 17 

wither every rational enjoyment, and to con- 
demn the heart to a state of isolated misery. 
How unworthy are such impressions of that 
system of mercy which God has devised, to 
heal the sorrows, and to cleanse the pollution 
of the soul ! But let the heart once feel the 
power of divine grace, and this imaginary mon- 
ster is quickly transformed into a real seraph — 
yes, a celestial visitant robed in purity, and 
dignified with more than angel majesty. Her 
smile is the sunshine of the soul. Her voice is 
the music of heaven. She comes not to abridge, 
but to enlarge the sphere of human felicity. 
For the joys she interdicts, she tenders others a 
thousand fold more pure and elevating. Com- 
munion with her makes the heart sick of all 
inferior beauty. It has henceforth lost in a 
great measure its relish for the low and tran- 
sient delights of the sensual and the gay. After 
having tasted of so pure a fountain, why, in- 
deed, should it turn back to quaff the muddy 
and turbulent streams of earth ? Why, after a 
glimpse of celestial glories, should it be inter- 
2* 



18 PIETY GIVES xMORE JOYS, ETC. 

ested in the artificial and unsatisfying round of 
this world's amusements ? 

No ; piety takes nothing away that is worth 
retaining, nor does she withhold what is desi- 
rable and necessary. She allows every pleas- 
ure that is consistent with the good of our im- 
mortal nature ; with her self-denials, even with 
the cross which she imposes, she connects a 
felicity which her sincere and faithful followers 
alone can understand and appreciate. " Her 
ways," says Solomon, " are ways of pleasant- 
ness, and all her paths are peace." Deny this 
who may, they know it to be true, who have 
walked in her ways, and gathered along their 
bright path, the spiritual joys which she has 
furnished to the pilgrim, 

" The joys that fade are not for me j 
I seek immortal joys above ; 
There glory without end, shall be 
The bright reward of faith and love." 



CHAPTER III. 

THE ADAPTATION OF RELIGION TO ALL THE SOUL's 
DESIRES. 

Man may be said to possess four classes of 
desires ; comprehended under the terms, animal, 
social, intellectual and moral. Tlie first, viz., 
the animal desires, he has, in common with the 
brute creation. These may be satisfied inde- 
pendent of religion ; but they are to be under 
her control, or they become inordinate, and 
therefore sinful. Indulged beyond the bounda- 
ries which she has fixed they are the occasion 
of guilt and misery. Hence religion is all-im- 
portant to restrain and guide these passions, so 
that they may not consume their victim by the 
intensity of their flame. 

The social desires can be gratified without 
religion ; but never, as it appears to the writer, 
can they, without its influence, be the source 
of all that happiness which they were designed 



20 THE ADAPTATION OF RELIGION 

to afford. There is much to mar the commu- 
nion, even of kindred minds, where true piety- 
is not the cementing bond. How often does 
envy prove the cause of coldness and aUena- 
tion ; and how small a circumstance will at 
times embitter and interrupt the intercourse 
which had been commenced under high antici- 
pations of permanent friendship ! Piety is a 
check to these intervening barriers ; and is 
ever ready, not only to sweeten the fellowship 
of kindred minds, but to counteract the causes 
of dissatisfaction and alienation. In her train 
comes charity, foremost of the graces, who has 
a smile for every heart, and a tear for every 
fault, and a look of generous forgiveness even 
when her laws have been violated. Besides, 
religion furnishes those pure, ennobling topics, 
which awaken kindred feelings, and which be- 
come additional ligatures to bind in closest af- 
finity the souls of the pious. 

The pleasures also of the intellect may be 
enjoyed without piety. In the varied field of 
investigation, which God has spread out to man, 



TO ALL THE SOUl's DESIRES. 21 

every taste may be indulged, and every faculty 
of the mind employed and strengthened. Phi- 
losophy we know has v^alked abroad over this 
scene of v^onders, and culled a thousand gems 
to adorn and to dignify the mind of man. Po- 
etry has explored every vale, ascended every 
mountain height, winged her flight to the visi- 
ble heavens, plunged into ocean's bed, penetra- 
ted nature's solitudes, left no spot unvisited, in 
order to string her lyre with sweet chords that 
should thrill on the soul's deep feelings. But who 
does not see, that if religion be excluded from 
all connexion with such pleasures and pursuits, 
they must lose much of the relish which they 
would otherwise possess ? The intellect is too 
closely related to the moral powers to operate 
with its full force, and to communicate by its 
exercise the highest good, whilst that relation 
is unacknowledged. If, as Dr. Young observes, 
" an undevout astronomer is mad," surely an 
atheist poet ; or one whose muse never Hfts 
her eye beyond earth's narrow bounds, is no less 
so. But piety has spread wide her treasures 



J22 THE ADAPTATION OP RELIGION 

for the inquisitive mind ; and he who refuses to 
examine them, must lose a rich harvest of in- 
tellectual pleasure. 

There is a fourth class of desires which we 
call moral, or perhaps they may more properly 
be termed immortal desires. Now we ask 
what provision is made for their gratification ? 

The world has aliment for the animal de- 
sires ; all nature is ransacked to administer to 
their indulgence. Even the laws of God are 
trampled upon in order to " sow to the flesh." 
The pampered appetite, like a spoiled child, is 
asked what new variety can now be furnished 
to suit its capricious longings. 

The world has also cultivated the social affec- 
tions, and made a liberal provision for their 
gratification. What ceaseless rounds of amuse- 
ment ! What crowded assembHes ! What ex- 
citing collision of wit and repartee ! How has 
the human invention been tasked to produce 
new forms of social intercourse by which men 
of varying tastes may mingle with some hope 
of reciprocal pleasure ! 



TO ALL THE SOUL's DESIRES. 23 

Nor have men been neglectful of the intel- 
lect. In every department of taste and of learn- 
ing, multitudes are found whose pleasures rise 
above those just named ; for we hold that next 
to the moral affections, the improvement of the 
intellect is the purest source of human felicity. 

But one class of desires still remains — the 
moral or immortal desires ; and we again ask, 
has the w^orld made any provision for them ? 
No man but an atheist will deny to us the pos- 
session of such desires ; nor can any with rea- 
son deny, that they are the most important, if 
not the most importunate, of our wants. The 
highest glory of man is not that he is an animal ; 
and therefore his highest pleasure cannot lie 
in the gratification of the senses. Nor is it his 
highest dignity that he is a social being ; — even 
the brute creation are, in a sense, assimilated 
to him in this respect ; — nor even that he has 
an intellect capable of enjoying the pursuits of 
science. No, his highest dignity and glory 
consist in his moral nature ; and his most im- 
portant wants are those which respect immor* 



24 THE ADAPTATION OF RELIGION 

tality. And yet it is a melancholy fact, that 
no provision is made by the world for this class 
of desires ; but, on the contrary, every expe- 
dient is adopted to thwart and to suppress 
them. Here is certainly a great deficiency. 
One part of our nature, and that confessedly 
the most important, is, in the general provision 
of the world for human happiness, entirely 
overlooked and neglected. No wonder man is 
not happy in the indulgence of his passions — 
that even social bliss meets not his large de- 
sires — and intellectual pursuits still leave him 
craving after something else. It is the voice 
of nature, complaining that her noblest aspira- 
tions are unheeded ; and taking retribution for 
the neglect by withholding that satisfaction 
which the sinner is striving in vain to secure. 
Ye men of the world, ye sons and daughters of 
pleasure, look at this deficiency in your ar- 
rangements, and know that until it is supplied 
you cannot be at peace. Now the Christian 
has this advantage over you, that whilst piety 
permits him to enjoy all the pleasures of sense. 



TO ALL THE SOUL's DESIRES. 25 

that are lawful, and social felicity, and intellec- 
tual pursuits ; and enhances even these sources 
of good to man — she also gives him the bread 
of life for the soul. The immortal desires, more 
than all others, she meets with the requisite 
aliment. Is this no advantage ; and are these 
joys of the spirit no increase in the general 
average of human felicity ? Ah, in the lan- 
guage of Cowper, Christians can say ; 

" From Thee is all ihat soothes the life of man ; 
His high endeavor, and his glad success, 
His strength to suffer, and his will to serve. 
But O, Thou bounteous Giver of all good, 
Thou art of all Thy gifts Thyself the crown ! 
Give what Thou canst, without Thee we are poor ; 
And with Thee rich, take what Thou wilt away." 



CHAPTER IV. 

THE JOY OF TRUE PIETY. 

Enough has been said, we trust, to rescue 
true piety from the aspersion so often cast upon 
it, that it produces gloom and despondency. 
We hope that none of our readers will again 
indulge such a thought ; but if they discover in 
the countenance or conduct of its professors 
any thing of this nature, they will refer it to 
the influence of something else besides piety. 
It may be the individual temperament, which, 
by nature sad, is gradually assuming, under the 
influence of religion, a more cheerful tone ; or 
it may arise from some passing cloud which 
has temporarily overshadowed the believer's 
mind ; or, what is not uncommon, it may be a 
pensive and sorrowful feeling, in view of the 
folly and madness of the careless, unthinking 
sinner. Impenitent reader, the gloom which 
you charge upon religion, is often the outward 



THE JOY OF TRUE PIETY. 27 

sign of compassion for your soul. Interpret 
that look aright. Ascribe it not to piety ; ex- 
cept as she teaches her followers to pity the 
lost. 

We shall a^ttempt, in the subsequent pages, 
to lay open the sources of joy and felicity, 
which the believer possesses : and endeavor to 
show, that if a Christian is not happy, it is from 
no deficiency in the provision ; nor in the 
means of obtaining it. We shall take as our 
motto the exhortation of the apostle, " Rejoice 
in the Lord always, and again I say, rejoice." 
Here we are explicitly enjoined to be cheerful, 
happy, yea, even joyful. We are required to 
exhibit our religion under a pleasing aspect, to 
wear a smile even when others would weep ; 
and to sing our song of triumph when others 
would sink in despair. Is piety, then, at war 
with nature ? O no, she only sustains that na- 
ture under the burdens which our apostate 
state has laid upon it. Religion forbids not 
the heart to melt for sorrows felt or witnessed. 
The tears that dropped into the grave of Laza- 



28 THE JOY OF TRUE PIETY. 

rus, affirm this. But the sympathies of the 
man, only set off to the more advantage the 
moral support of the Christian ,• and whilst 
nature is dissolved in grief, piety is near to w^ipe 
the falling tear, and throw around the soul her 
all-supporting arms. There is no stoicism in 
religion. But her joy is calm, not boisterous ; 
and her sympathies deep in proportion to the 
real amount of suffering experienced or antici- 
pated. 

Nevertheless, it is the duty of all true Chris- 
tians to evince to the world, that their religion 
has taken off from the soul the garments of 
mourning, and clothed it in the spirit of glad- 
ness. How little of this rejoicing has been 
heard in the tabernacles of the righteous ! How 
few Christians have felt that the apostle's ex- 
hortation comes to them with any thing like an 
imperative obligation personally to rejoice ! 
Hence it is not to be wondered at, that the no- 
tion has obtained among the irreligious, that 
Christians are gloomy ; and now if we would 
wipe off from piety this aspersion, we must put 



THE JOY OF TRUE PIETY. 29 

on a new aspect, and give vent to our religious 
feelings in songs of praise and thanksgiving. 
But mark, Christian reader, we are not in favor 
of a forced or artificial joy. If our joy is in 
God, and is the natural efflux of pious emo- 
tion, it will then give a right impression, and be 
admitted to come from a divine source. 

It appears evident that piety, to have its 
full effect upon the world, must come forth to 
the eyes of men with more of its joyous spirit. 
By this we do not mean that it must relax 
one iota of its strictness ; nor substract one 
particle from the weight of that cross which it 
imposes. It is not our aim to exchange its 
cheerfulness for levity, nor its abstinence from 
worldly gayeties for a participation in them. 
Its joy then would not surely be in God. But 
we intend to urge, the importance of having the 
soul so imbued with the love of God and man ; 
so settled in its own confidence of salvation ; 
so full of heavenly hopes and . anticipations ; 
so dead to the world and so independent of its 
3* 



30 THE JOY OF TRUE PIETY. 

delights, that it shall wear something of a ce- 
lestial air, and impress men both with the re- 
ality and the purity of its joy. In our day it 
seems, alas, as if this bright feature was but 
seldom fully developed. Where is to be found 
the happy Christian? Where is the soul 
whose devotions partake more of the rapturous 
than the complaining spirit ? On whose face 
now beams the smile of gladness ? Who lives so 
near to heaven's bright regions as to have his 
features gilded with its reflected glories? 
Surely religion is designed, and has the power 
thus to irradiate every soul on whom her influ- 
ence falls. She comes from heaven, the region 
of felicity, to conduct the soul out of these 
" dismal deeps and dangerous snares," to fill it 
with joy unspeakable, and to guide it where no 
sorrows can ever be experienced. Who then 
should wear a brighter countenance than the 
Christian ? Who has a right to sing such ex- 
ulting strains, or to indulge in such glorious an- 
ticipations? With all due allowance for the va- 



THE JOY OF TRUE PIETY. 31 

rying temperaments of the pious, we still think 
that there is less Christian joy than the Bible 
warrants and even commands. 

Look at the example of the apostle Paul, 
who, though pressed with more care and en- 
compassed with more infirmities than any of 
his pious colleagues, exhibited this joyous spirit 
throughout his whole Christian course. I will 
challenge the gayest child of vanity to a com- 
parison with him. View him when and where 
you will, he is the same buoyant and happy 
saint, whose deep, ardent piety, like a talisman, 
doubles every joy, and converts even the occa- 
sions of sorrow into seasons of spiritual triumph. 
"Rejoicing in tribulation," was one of his mottos. 
What says earth's votary to this ? The world- 
ling can be happy when all goes well with him. 
He can exult amid the prosperities of life ; but 
cast him with the apostle into Philippics dun- 
geon, or place him at Nero's bloody tribunal, 
and see if his joy will hold out there. 

Piety has other signal triumphs to name. We 
may, even in our day, point to a Legh Richmond, 



32 THE JOY OF TRUE PIETY. 

whose soul for the most part sent forth notes 
" cheerful as the bird of morning ;" or to Han- 
nah Moore, whose natural gayety of temper^ 
sanctified by eminent piety, diffused around 
her a most attractive charm. Her solitary 
example should wipe away for ever two very 
unjust charges sometimes brought against piety, 
viz., that it influences only weak minds,, and 

overshadows the soul with gloom and despond- 
ency,, * 



CHAPTER V. 

PIOUS JOY ENJOINED IN THE SCRIPTURES. 

As the writer is addressing principally 
professing Christians, it is proper to inquire of 
them, if they have ever considered the numer- 
ous calls and commands from Scripture to the 
exercise of pious joy ? It must have occurred 
to every reader of the Bible, how^ often this 
duty is inculcated ; and it must have rather 
puzzled him to find among all his Christian ac- 
quaintance so partial a compliance. 

In its very name, the religion of the gospel 
is good tidings of great joy. All its promises 
and prospects are gladdening to the soul. Every 
feature is radiant with Heaven's brightness. 
The highly figurative descriptions of it, given us 
in Scripture, all represent its joyous tendency. 
It is a fountain opened for the way-worn and 
thirsty traveller ; and Mercy's angel seems to 
stand at its brink, crying, "Ho, every one that 



34 PIOUS JOY ENJOINED 

thirsteth, come ye to the waters." Nor is this 
fountain unsealed merely to refresh the soul ; it 
is also designed as a healing stream. Judah 
and Jerusalem are invited to come and wash 
away their pollution in its purifying flood. How 
strongly speak these figures of the joyous char- 
acter of the gospel ! Fully to appreciate them, 
we must go, pitch our tent with the Arab in 
the desert, whose parched lips have just touch- 
ed the long-sought stream ; or creep with the 
half-decayed leper to the pool of Bethesda, 
where his foul disorder can be healed. 

It is called " the day-spring from on high ;" 
than which no symbol could be more lovely or 
cheering. It is termed the " light to them that 
sit in darkness ;" it is the " opening of the pris- 
on doors to them that are bound." It is " life 
from the dead." It is "joy unspeakable and 
full of glory." How rich is the Scripture in 
imagery, setting forth the gladdening influence 
of piety. It is natural, then, to look for this 
effect, wherever it is experienced ; and it is no 
forced inference to say, that all those figures 



IN THE S( laPTTRES. 35 

imply, if they do not enjoin, the exercise of 
pious joy. 

I have alluded to Paul as a fine specimen of 
the uniformly cheerful saint. I will join with 
him one whose experience was not perhaps so 
uniform ; but whose pious joys rose occasional- 
ly, if not constantly, quite as high. I mean the 
Psalmist David. There may have been some- 
thing in the temperament of David, on which 
religion acted with a peculiar and impressive 
gracefulness. Judging from the account given 
us of his early life, we should very naturally 
conclude this to be the case. How lovely is 
his deportment when first introduced to the 
notice, and taken under the patronage, of Saul ! 
What strength of affection did he manifest 
towards Jonathan ! He had evidently, too, a 
soul attuned to the contemplation of nature. 
He was trained amid her glorious works, and 
learned to sing, with a poet's exultation, of her 
beauties and her wonders. But all these traits, 
which nature had so amply supplied and adjust- 
ed, were sanctified by religion, and were wholly 



36 PIOUS JOY ENJOINED 

enlisted in her service. From such an one, I 
admit, we might expect a more than ordinary 
amount of Christian cheerfulness. If we judge 
his emotions by the devotional strains which he 
has indited, we shall say that he excels all 
others in the rapturous and even sublime joy 
which, for the most part, he evinces. " My 
soul shall make her boast in the Lord : the 
humble shall hear thereof and be glad. O, 
magnify the Lord with me, and let us exalt His 
name together." "I will rejoice in Thy salvation." 
Nor was he satisfied with expressing in such el- 
evated strains his own gladness of heart ; but he 
calls upon others to join in this delightful work. 
" Rejoice in the Lord, O ye righteous, for praise 
is comely for the upright." "Let them that love 
Thy name be joyful in Thee." " Let the chil- 
dren of Zion be joyful in their King." And 
when he has enlisted the voice and tongue of 
Zion's children, he next invokes inanimate na- 
ture to unite in the general concert of praise. 
<* Let the sea roar, and the fulness thereof ; the 
world, and they that dwell therein. Let the 



IN THE SCRIPTURES. 37 

floods clap their hands : let the hills be joyful 
together before the Lord." 

It is true, a plaintive and sometimes even a 
deeply desponding tone is exhibited in the 
Psalms; but the general tenor is that of confidence 
and of joy. Even vsrhere, in some instances, the 
writer commences in a mournful strain, ere his 
song is ended the sentiment changes to one of 
heavenly rapture. 

With respect to David it may then be said, 
he lived, for the most part, in a happy frame ; 
and that his joy vi^as derived from, and w^as 
connected with the love and service of God. 

Other instances of a uniformly joyful frame, 
might be gathered from Scripture, and also 
from among Christians in modern times ; but 
I would ask the reader to look at a few passa- 
ges of the Bible setting forth the duty of mani- 
festing a cheerful, happy temper, as the legiti- 
mate effect of true piety. 

The Scriptures are so full of exhortations of 
this nature that I scarcely know where to 
select. In the Book of Chronicles, Israel is 

4 



38 PIOUS JOY ENJOINED 

commanded to '* glory in God's holy name/' 
and it is added, " let the heart of them rejoice 
that seek the Lord." In Deuteronomy it is 
said, " Ye shall rejoice before the Lord your 
God," Says the prophet Joel, " Ye children of 
Zion rejoice in the Lord." Paul has numer- 
ous exhortations to rejoice. In closing his epistle 
to the Philippians he says, " Finally, my breth- 
ren, rejoice in the Lord." " Rejoice in the 
Lord always : and again I say, Rejoice." 

These examples and quotations make it 
plain that the truly pious are not only authori- 
zed to put on the air of gladness, but are 
I'equired as the redeemed of the Lord to mani- 
fest this spirit before the world. Every thing 
in the visible universe calls the Christian to this 
duty. Nature, by audible and inaudible strains, 
should provoke us to the manifestation of our 
joy. The flower that has slept beneath the dews 
of the night, lifts up its head and seems to smile 
as the sun-beam of morning falls upon it. The 
sky is bright and joyous after the dark cloud 
has rolled away, and countless voices come to 



IN THE SCRIPTURES. 39 

US from earth and air, whose cheerful accents 
tell us, that if their joy be transient, it is never- 
theless sincere. Now shall the Christian, whose 
soul has wept sweeter tears than the dews of 
the night, and has been enlivened by a brighter 
beam than the morning ray, shall he refuse to 
look glad ? Shall he, from whose prospects 
the dark cloud of God's anger has passed away 
for ever, give no sign of joyfulness ; nor, whilst 
listening with the ear of faith to the melodies 
of Heaven, in which he hopes soon to unite, 
begin the hallelujahs on this side of his eternal 
rest ? Shall the power of God awaken in the 
natural world such strains of joy ; and shall 
this great mercy be less influential in filling the 
soul, which it has blessed, with the praises of its 
God? 



CHAPTER VI. 

THE FOUNDATION OF PIOUS JOY. 

Every effect has its cause ; and this princi- 
ple is as applicable to the emotions of the soul as 
to the phenomena of the material world. If 
there be exercised a pious joy, it must have 
some source or origin. The apostle Paul has 
referred it to the true and legitimate cause. 
He says, " rejoice in the Lord." The founda- 
tion then of pious joy is God, the infinite 
source of all true felicity. The numerous 
passages of Scripture already cited — especial- 
ly those from the Psalmist — evince the same 
truth. " Rejoice in the Lord, ye righteous ; 
and give thanks at the remembrance of his 
holiness." 

Pious joy is not confined to the redeemed 
children of Adam ; but is felt and manifested 
by all the holy. The good angels are no less 
exultant than the ransomed, who are associated 



THE FOUNDATION OF PIOUS JOY. 41 

with them in singing the hallelujahs of Heaven. 
But the source of this gladness both among an- 
gels and men is the same. It is the great and 
glorious God. 

When Adam was created, and placed a pure 
being in the garden of Eden, we may suppose, 
that, as one of his first acts would be praise, so 
one of his first emotions would be pious joy. 
But if we imagine that his joy came simply, or 
principally, from the fragrant beauties which 
surrounded him, we are greatly mistaken. Such 
a conception would not be in harmony with the 
character of God his Creator, nor with the ex- 
alted and unsullied character of Adam. His 
outward circumstances enhanced, doubtless, his 
happiness ; but this effect they had as media, 
through which to trace the wisdom and good- 
ness of God. We should infer from the Scripture 
account of our first parents, that, whilst their 
occupation was to dress and to keep this earth- 
ly paradise, their purest and noblest satisfaction 
consisted in intimate communion with God. 
Earth was then but one form of Heaven ; adapt- 

4* 



42 THE FOUNDATION 

ed indeed to the compound nature of man ; 
but varying not from Heaven in the essentials 
of its happiness, nor obstructing as now, a free 
and familiar intercourse with Jehovah, Hence, 
we find the Almighty conversing with Adam, 
a& one converses with his friend ; giving out 
His commands ; promising His favors ; and af- 
fording the blissful light of His countenance. 
" In the cool of the day," by some palpable mani- 
festation, He made Himself known to His new- 
created subjects, and filled their souls with "joy 
unspeakable." It was doubtless to this glad 
hour that our fii'st parents daily looked with 
most delightful anticipations ; and in it, felt 
their purest rapture. But Eden was no longer 
bright or beautiful when that hour became a 
season of dread ; and the guilty pair shrunk 
from the well-known footsteps of their Crea- 
tor. Their greatest happiness before their fall 
was in God ; and their keenest misery after lU 
was, that they had " forsaken the fountain of 
living waters." Milton has put into the mouth 
of our maternal progenitor a very beautiful and 



OF PIOUS JOY. 43 

touching lamentation over her lost Paradise. 
The poet, in this, has spoken the voice of na- 
ture ; but it is, alas, the voice of fallen nature, 
which is prone to be more touched by a depri- 
vation of the gift, than by any deep sense of 
the forfeited favor of the great Giver. 

Since that sad event, which bore man away 
from his Maker, we have been striving to sub- 
stitute some other foundation of felicity ; but 
never can true and substantial joy revisit the 
soul, until that soul regains its primitive portion, 
and finds its all in God. 

The remedial system, which the Gospel of 
our Lord Jesus Christ presents, has in view this 
very object, viz., the restoration of the Divine 
favor, whereby a permanent foundation is laid 
for human felicity. It is true, this blessed 
gospel does not propose to re-plant literally 
another Eden, and to embower its believers 
among its amaranthine shades ; but it does what 
is infinitely better, it places under the soul the 
original foundation of its joy ; and, by reclaim- 
ing it to God, gives it the promise and the pros- 



44 THE FOUNDATION 

pectof a brighter paradise above. And now 
we may walk again with our Maker " in the cool 
of the day" — in the evening hour of meditation ; 
or at any time which the soul may choose, and 
feel as real, if not as exuberant, a joy as glowed 
in the hearts of Eden's unfallen occupants. 
We may now cast our eyes over the Creator's 
works, which, if disrobed of primeval loveliness, 
are still His works, and retain the signature of 
His hand in all their outspread beauties and 
sublimities. We may survey these wonders, 
and rejoice in them, as the manifest indications 
of His godhead. We are invited to come back 
from our unsatisfied wandermgs, and to rebuild 
on the original foundation of all true joy and 
felicity. Ever since Adam was cast out of the 
consecrated garden, man has not known where 
to go for this pure and substantial joy. How 
many streams have been tasted in the hope of 
finding it ! How many countries have been 
explored ! What a variety of pleasures have 
been pursued ! But man is driven out from the 
presence of God. This is the true secret of all 



OF PIOUS JOY. 45 

his cares and sorrows. This explains the fail- 
ure of his ten thousand experiments. Until he 
gets back to the presence of his God, he has 
no right to rejoice ; and he has in fact no true 
foundation for joy. But, O what glad tidings 
are these that fall on the ear ! Methinks I hear 
again the renewed congratulations of the angel 
band, assuring us that " the second Adam, the 
Lord from Heaven," has come to conduct us 
back to our forfeited paradise ; or rather to re- 
open the celestial Eden, and acquire for us a 
title to its imperishable glories. Now God will 
dwell again on earth, and the soul may find in 
Him the broad foundation of peace and happi- 
ness. And who is this that turns aside the 
cherubic sword, and allows us to pluck the im- 
mortal fruits, and breathe once more the at- 
mosphere of Heaven ? To whom are we so 
deeply indebted for the restoration of our joy ? 
Ah, reader, if you have never know^n this friend 
of the helpless, this Almighty Savior, you can- 
not know what pure and perfect pleasure is. 
You have not yet touched the vital spring of 



46 THE FOUNDATION OF PIOUS JOY. 

human felicity. But if you know this Savior, 
and feel Him to be precious to your soul, you 
have found your v^ay to the w^ell-spring of life, 
and can " rejoice in the hope of the glory of 
God." 

" Dearer, far dearer to my heart, 
Than all the joys that earth can give ; 
From fame, from health, from friends I'd part, 
Beneath His countenance to live." 



CHAPTER VII. 

THE JOY OF BELIEVING IN GOD. 

Since the joy of the Christian has its founda- 
tion in God, the reader's attention may very 
properly be directed to some particular aspects 
in which this position is illustrated. 

The first which shall be noticed is a very 
simple one, viz., the habitual and practical con- 
viction of the Divine existence. I am not dis- 
posed, in these pages, to enter upon any formal 
argument against atheism ; but would remark 
simply, that whilst the avowed atheist is rarely 
to be met with, there is, among many who style 
themselves Christians, a vast deal oi practical 
atheism. 

The effect, in this latter case, on the happi- 
ness of man is very little less than where the 
disbelief of a God is openly avowed. If the 
soul is wholly absorbed from day to day, for a 
series of years, in the mere business or pleas< 



48 THE JOY OF 

ures of the world, it is leading, so far, an atheis- 
tical life. The fact, that no profession of this 
monstrous doctrine is made, abates but in a 
small degree the influence which the practice 
of it exerts over the moral affections. There is 
indeed this point of difference ; in the one case 
the individual feels but little check upon an un- 
restrained indulgence of the evil passions; 
whilst in the other, there is the power of con- 
science strengthening its rebukes by a vague im- 
pression of future retribution. 

Now we admit that until the soul can have 
some reasonable hope that God is its friend and 
portion, the habitual conviction of the divine 
existence can hardly be supposed to produce 
pleasure, much less joy. If the individual is 
conscious that his course of conduct is such as 
God would not approve ; or if his desires are 
such as he is unwilling to lay before the Omni- 
cient Eye, it must be evident that, instead of find- 
ing in the idea of God's eternal existence any 
thing agreeable, it is the source of much dis- 
quiet and alarm. Hence it is said of such in 



BELIEVING IN GOD. 49 

the Scriptures, that, " they desire not the know- 
ledge of His ways." 

But whilst the idea of God is shut out inten- 
tionally from the minds of those who may be 
termed practical atheists ; whose attention is 
confined to the gifts, whilst it is impiously with- 
drawn from the Giver, the pious soul delights 
in the very thought of God, and finds in this 
grand fundamental fact a substantial founda- 
tion of joy. 

The conception of God, inadequate as it 
must of course be, even where the Bible has 
taught it, and the Spirit has cleared the "mental 
ray," is nevertheless one so well adapted to the 
soul's nature and desires, that it produces a 
powerful augmentation of its happiness. This, 
I repeat, is the case only where the soul has 
some reasonable hope that the great Creator 
has become reconciled to it through Jesus 
Christ. The truly pious therefore have, in the 
habitual conviction of the Divine Existence, a 
sublime and glorious conception lying before 
the mind at all times, and operating upon its 

5 



50 THE JOY OP 

powers to enlarge them, and upon its desires 
to purify and ennoble them. Here is an ad- 
vantage in favor of piety v^hich is not often 
contemplated. Other men may talk of their 
belief in God ; but so long as they aim to keep 
this grand idea away from their thoughts, it 
does not exert even its natural effect to enlarge 
and ennoble the powers. The Christian is in 
the daily contemplation of this fact. The grand 
conception is operating perpetually, and must 
hence give dignity and compass to the soul's 
faculties, whilst at the same time the moral af- 
fections are awakened and purified. 

Every pious man delights in the idea of the 
Divine Existence. It not only enlarges but 
rejoices his heart-^^There is the accompanying 
conviction that God is his portion, his father, 
and his friend. This filial spirit abates the 
overpowering impression which so great a truth 
would otherwise exert,' and enables him to 
mingle holy love with reverential fean It is 
with' the good man an habitual, pervading im- 
pression. God js " in all his thoughts '' The 



BELIEVING IN GOD* 51 

universe is fo him illuminated w^ith the Divine 
presence. He has lifted his contemplations 
above the region w^here they used to dw^ell, and 
finds himself searching for God in every event 
of hfe, and marking His footsteps in all the 
changes which take place in this mutable 
sphere. Who cannot see that such a thought 
must necessarily afford a ground of exultation 
to the Christian ? Let any mind, now buried 
amid earth's low cares and pleasures ; making 
all its calculations, and laying all its plans, with- 
out a recognition of God, or even a thought of 
His presence and government ; let this mind 
come fully and habitually under the belief of a 
God, and begin to acknowledge Him in all its 
ways, what a calm confidence will at once 
overspread it, and how soon will it evince a 
dignity to which it was before a stranger I 
There'is something sublime in the idea of an 
ever-present, ail-pervading God. It gives the 
soul that holds it a stability which no vicissitudes^ 
of earth can undermine. It plants the feet 
upoR a rock. It enables the devout man to 



53 THE JOY OP 

sing, and to rejoice even when the prospect is 
appalling. He goes forth, too, among the works 
of this great Creator, and holds converse with 
every thing which God has made. Every such 
object has a tongue and a voice which ministers 
instruction to the soul. Where the poet sees 
only some fine combination in nature, he adds 
to it the vital breathings of the present and 
glorious God. While the philosopher exults in 
the newly discovered analysis, the Christian 
says, " here is the finger of God." Multitudes, 
^* with brute unconscious gaze," are dwelling 
only on the intrinsic value of nature's gifts ; the 
contemplative Christian adds a new and moral 
charm by connecting them with that hand, 
which " openeth to satisfy the desire of every 
living thing." Is there no advantage in all 
this ? Has not the pious soul a greater and 
more sublime source of joy than those grovel- 
ling minds who, whilst they deny not the being 
of God in words, do practically eject Him from 
their thoughts ! Atheistical conduct may 
exist where an atheistical creed is not adopted ; 



BELIEVING IN GOD. 53 

but to have a full perennial fountain of joy, we 
must have the habitual conviction, that there 
is a God— that He is ever-present — and that 
He is our friend and portion. 



5# 



CHAPTER VIII, 

i 

3PI0US JOY CONNECTED WITH PROPER CONCEP- 
TIONS OF THE DIVINE CHARACTER. ^ 

The good man rejoices not only in the exis- 
tence of God, but in His character as revealed 
in the Bible. Taught by the Holy Spirit, 
through the medium of Divine truth, his views 
of the Creator, though inadequate, are never- 
theless correct. 

We may believe in a Supreme Being, and 
yet so wide from the truth may be our views 
of His nature, attributes, and government, that 
the contemplation of Him shall produce horror 
and dismay, rather than pleasure. Such un- 
worthy impressions of God are actually enter- 
tained in countries where the light of revelation 
is not enjoyed. The thought of God carries 
only terror to the soul, and His worshippers are 
employed in deprecating His anger, rather than 
in supplicating His favor. The loveliest trait 



PIOUS JOY CONNECTED, ETC. 5o 

of the Divine character — if it be not irreverent to 
institute a comparison — His beneficence, is 
wholly unknown ; and He is considered as 
more disposed to injure than to bless His 
creatures. 

And even where men may know the true 
character of God — ^where the Bible, and the 
Sabbath, and the sanctuary exist — very incor- 
rect and unworthy notions of Him are enter- 
tained. Those "who obey not the gospel, 
know not God." With the means of informing 
themselves abundantly within their reach, they 
prefer to remain in ignorance ; and all the im- 
pressions which they obtain of His character, 
are such as come rather by the force of circum- 
stances than by any prayerful and diligent study 
of His word. 

The impenitent sinner, even when contem- 
plating God, takes but a partial view of His 
character. Finding that He has levelled His 
denunciations against sin, and made ready His 
arrow against the workers of iniquity, he is 
led to view Him only as a God of vengeance, and 



56 PIOUS JOY CONNECTED WITH PROPER 

like the heathen, to associate with him the idea 
of mahgnity rather than benevolence. Hence 
he is surprised that a Christian can have any 
joy in the contemplation of the Deity ; and 
hence also he strives to shut out the thought 
of God from his own mind. But here is clear- 
ly a very partial and incorrect notion of the 
Creator. 

It is true that God will punish the workers 
of iniquity, who do not repent and trust for sal- 
vation in His Son Jesus Christ ; but is this any 
objection to His character ? Would you allege 
as an unworthy trait against a civil magistrate, 
that he caused the laws to be respected, and for 
their violation punished the delinquent ? It 
might be shown that, on the principles of the 
strictest benevolence, it would be necessary for 
God to do in this respect just as He has done. 
Now, what the unreflecting sinner calls ma- 
hgnity or severity in God, the Christian views 
as the essential and all-important attribute of 
justice ; and, so far from objecting to its exis- 
tence or its exercise, he looks upon it as the 



CONCEPTIONS OF THE DIVINE CHARACTER. 57 

pledge of security to the moral interests of the 
universe. He can and does rejoice in God as 
holyy and just, as well as good. 

The views entertained of the Divine benefi- 
cence, by those who are not taught of God, are 
often very incorrect and unscriptural. Some 
make it wholly indiscriminate ; alleging that 
it covers all the sins of all mankind ; and in its 
ultimate action, makes no difference " between 
him that serveth God, and him that serveth Him 
not." To exalt this trait, they merge another 
equally important, viz.. His justice. This is 
evidently a very distorted and erroneous view 
of the Divine character. Some can see no good- 
ness in God unless He heaps favors on them- 
selves. The measure of His blessings to them, 
is the rule by which they judge of the gracious 
acts of their Creator ; not reflecting that ac- 
cording to the Bible, He may after all be giving 
them their good things only in this life. 

How much more comprehensive, as well as 
correct and scriptural, are the views of the 
pious soul ! His Bible teaches him that God is 



58 PIOUS JOY CONNECTED WITH PROPER 

" good, and that He doeth good, and that His 
tender mercies are over all Flis works." He 
views Him as benevolent ; and as exerting His 
benevolence to make His creatures happy, yet 
not at the sacrifice of His justice and His truth. 
He considers the Divine Being as acting on a 
great and comprehensive plan, in which, though 
temporal favors are given to men with appa- 
rent disregard to their moral characters, yet all 
things are working together for the good of the 
pious ; whilst even temporal blessings are often 
so perverted and abused by the wicked, through 
their depravity, that they become at last the 
witnesses of God against them. To the eye of 
a Christian, God sits regent over all the uni- 
verse, and conducts the affairs of His mighty 
empire, with a view to promote His own glory. 
It is this enlarged conception which enables 
the Christian to cast aside the petty claims of 
self, and to exult in the fact, that, " the Lord 
God Omnipotent reigneth." Sovereignty is a 
glorious attribute of God. Wisdom to devise 
the best plans, and power omnipotent to secure 



CONCEPTIONS OF THE DIVINE CHARACTER. 59 

their accomplishment — and this too, without 
destroying the accountability of man, or lessen- 
ing his dependence on Divine aid — are the 
grand and mysterious features of that govern- 
ment instituted and administered by the Eternal 
One. Is there here no room for joy ? Has the 
soul no solid basis for praises in all this ? Have 
not these views a direct tendency to estabUsh 
the heart in confidence ; to make it feel that 
the temporary obstructions to the triumph of 
truth and virtue will only, in the end and under 
the jurisdiction of God, make that triumph the 
more complete and glorious ? 

To rejoice in God we must view His charac- 
ter as it is revealed in His holy word — we must 
have affections in unison with it — we must feel 
that inward approbation, and submission, and 
love which result from the renewal of the Holy 
Ghost ; and then, not only shall we entertain 
right views of God, but the conception will act 
on the soul with a cheering, as well as a sanc- 
tifying influence. 



CHAPTER IX. 

•l^HE RELATION OF PIOUS JOY TO THE DOCTRINE 
OF PROVIDENCE. 

The Bible teaches the doctrine of a particu- 
lar providence, " Not a sparrow/' says Jesus, 
** shall fall on the ground vs^ithout your 
Father ;" and " even the very hairs of your 
head are all numbered." " The steps of a good 
man," says another, " are ordered by the Lord." 
This doctrine is, by the pious man, not only be- 
lieved, but practically recognized, in all the 
business and events of life ; and it is this prac- 
tical recognition alone that constitutes it a foun- 
dation of joy. 

How many are there, who do not sympathize 
in the least with this view of Divine providence ! 
They are willing to instal the great Creator 
on the universal throne, and pay Him the 
homage due to a distant and comparatively un- 
interested monarch ; too lofty to stoop to the 



THE RELATION OP PIOUS JOY, ETC. 61 

affairs of men, and too much absorbed in His 
vast empire above, to interfere in the concerns 
of this diminutive sphere. Hence, we hear so 
much of chance, of fortune, of second causes, 
and so Httle of the Divine hand in the vicissitudes 
of nations and of individuals. 

But w^hat say ye, vi^ho thus think and act, to 
the view which our Savior gives us? The 
bird that folds its wing and falls to the earth, 
or that is arrested by the archer's arrow and 
drops bleeding to the ground, is directed in its 
fall by the hand of God. Yea, even the hairs 
of our heads, insignificant as they may singly 
seem, are still noticed and numbered by the 
Almighty. Not a step that we take, nor a 
purpose that we accomplish, do we take, or 
accomplish independent of Him. What say 
ye to this view of a Divine providence ? This 
is the view that brings God near ; that acknow 
ledges His hand in the minutest affairs of life ; 
and yet derogates not from His dignity as 
the maker and mover of the spheres. He who 
liglited up the sun, formed the moth that bathes 
6 



62 THE RELATION OF PIOUS JOY TO THE 

its beauteous wing in the bright sun-beam ; and 
that insect existence as truly demonstrates the 
infinitude of His power, as does the great foun- 
tain of hght in whose radiance it rejoices. 

The pious mind embraces this scriptural doc- 
trine of a particular providence, and finds it 
both consolatory and encouraging. In all that 
relates to the external world — its physical 
changes, and its great moral and political 
events — the good man is busy in interpreting 
the will of God. Where other men are prying 
into second causes, and noticing their influence 
alone, Retraces the finger of Providence, opera- 
ting through these causes in the production of 
the highest good. Here, his advantage must 
be conceded in having, above others, his 
heart fixed on the great First Cause, whose fiat 
is the law of the universe, and whose power, 
wisdom, and goodness are pledges for the 
rectitude of His government. Let then the 
clouds rise ever so dark and disastrous ; " let 
the sea roar, and the mountains shake with the 
swelling thereof," he can sit calm amid the 



DOCTRINE OF PROVIDENCE. 63 

scene ; and sing of Him, who, though " clouds 
and darkness be round about Him," makes 
" justice and judgement the habitation of His 
throne." 

But it is in view more especially of his own 
private history, that the Christian finds this 
idea of a particular providence so productive 
of joy. From his infancy onward, he sees and 
acknowledges the hand of his Heavenly Father. 
He turns back to the first page of his earthly 
existence, and loves to read a lesson of grati- 
tude in the parents whose affectionate looks 
awakened the first infant smile. He marks a 
hand Divine thrown around him during the 
reckless period of youth, and pointing out his 
path as he emerged from youth into manhood. 
Even disappointments which, at the time of 
their occurrence, were so hard to bear, in the 
retrospect he sees to have been ordained from 
a kind regard to his real good. How often is 
he constrained to sing, in the^ beautiful hnes of 
Addison : 



64 THE RELATION OF PIOUS JOY TO THE 

" When all Thy mercies, O my God, 
My rising soul surveys ; 
Transported with the view, I'm lost 
In wonder, love, and praise. 

Thy providence my life sustained, 
And all my wants redressed; 
When in the silent womb I lay, 
And hung upon the breast. 

To all my weak complaints and cries, 
Thy mercy lent an ear, 
Ere yet my feeble thoughts had learned 
To form themselves in prayer . 

When in the slippery paths of youth 
With heedless steps I ran, 
Thine arm unseen conveyed me safe, 
And led me up to man." 

It is a practical impression of this unseen 
hand, moving in all that happens to the believer, 
administering the cup of joy and of affliction — 
and all for his ultimate good — that throws over 
the soul a quiet confidence, and enables it in 
" every situation therew^ith to be content." His 
Heavenly Father is at the helm, and no adverse 
w^ind that blovs^s, or threatening waves that 
rise, can excite a fear in his trustful heart. If 



DOCTRINE OP PROVIDENCE. 65 

the wisdom that looked to " the end from the 
beginning" — that laid the plan of the universe, 
in all its minute circumstances, as v^ell as its 
good results — is busied in shaping his lot in life ; 
and if the powder that is omnipotent is also, 
under the guidance of eternal love, employed 
in carrying out these designs ; if this be so — as 
he firmly believes — how calm and thankful, 
yea, even joyous must be his feelings ! Then 
must every blessing be viewed as from the 
hand of God ; and even disappointment be in- 
terpreted as an inexplicable yet certain token 
of the Divine favor, which is to be overruled for 
the greater good of the soul. Now who can 
deny that such a doctrine puts the language of 
praise as well as of prayer into the lips ; and 
enables him who believes it, to " rejoice in the 
Lord always ?" If the father of a numerous 
family is known to be wise in all his domestic 
arrangements ; exact in their accomplishment ; 
blending patriarchal dignity with paternal love ; 
ever seeking the good of his household ; and 
contriving a thousand affectionate ways to win 
6*= 



66 THE RELATION OF PIOUS JOY TO THE 

their confidence, and increase their respect and 
affection ; how certain that such a household 
will be pervaded by a lovely and joyous spirit ! 
Even the discipline of that house will wear the 
aspect of tenderness, and every inmate will be 
watching for the returning smile upon the 
brow, as the signal for a renewal of their glad- 
ness. If domestic trials come, all will turn 
their confident expectations to the head. In 
his wisdom they have a pledge that every thing 
will be done which can be done ; and in his af- 
fection an equally sure pledge that what is 
done will have a respect to their interests. 

Now this but faintly images the confidence 
in God's providence which spreads such satis- 
faction and joy over the soul of a pious man. 
As one of a numerous family, he knows that 
whilst every incident is ordered and arranged 
by the great Head for the good of the whole ; 
yet that each individual's good is included in, 
and is conducive to the good of the whole. 
He will therefore be ever deciphering, among 
the vicissitudes of his journey, the tokens of 



DOCTRINE OF PROVIDBNCE. 67 

Divine favor which blend in with all that he 
enjoys and all that he suffers. In his passage 
to the eternal rest, not one inch will be too 
thorny, nor one moment too dark. No cup 
will be too bitter when he is convinced that his 
Heavenly Father has given it to him to drink ; 
but breasting himself against the flood of evils 
which he may be called to meet — or rather 
strengthened by Divine grace cheerfully to 
bear, what Divine providence has justly assign- 
ed, — he will go on his way rejoicing, in the full 
belief that all things will at last work together 
for his good. 



CHAPTER X, 

THE JOY OF SALVATION. 

In the remarks already made, it has been 
implied, as the reader will perceive, that he who 
rejoices in God is one w^ho is through Divine 
mercy reconciled to Him. In one word, he is 
in a state of salvation. This new relation 
which the soul sustains to its Creator and Sove- 
reign is the grand source of its highest felicities ; 
and the consciousness of this change, together 
with the exercises which grow out of it, afford 
the most heart-felt joy. This is the joy of sal- 
vation. 

It is this great change, together with the 
effects of it on the heart and life — on the hopes 
and prospects, that distinguishes the truly pious 
from those who are unconverted. To know 
what this change is, and properly to appreciate 
its benign effects in the production of human 
happiness, it is necessary personally to experi- 



THE JOY OF SALVATION. 69 

ence it. " The natural man," says St. Paul, 
*' receiveth not the things of the Spirit of God." 

Let those then speak of the blessedness 
of this state who through Divine grace have 
enjoyed it ; and let none question the truth of 
their testimony, nor the sincerity of their pro- 
fessions. 

The very term, salvation^ implies subject 
matter for joy and praise. But the depth of 
the emotion must depend, in some degree, on 
the amount of evil from which the soul per- 
ceives itself rescued. If a man is delivered 
from a state of mere ignorance, he would nat- 
urally rejoice in the change. Now if the gos- 
pel simply revealed a clearer dispensation, and 
unfolded some new moral motives — the only 
view, alas, which many take — it would cause, 
in a mind anxious to acquire religious knowl- 
edge, a spring of fresh delight. But it will be 
seen that, in this case, nothing more is conceded 
to the gospel than an increase of moral light. 
The joy, therefore, if real, cannot be as deep as 



70 THE JOY OF SALVATION. 

it will be according to another and more scrip- 
tural view, which we present. 

Suppose the individual, in addition to being 
in a state of ignorance, to be also in a state of 
guilt and condemnation. He mourns, not only 
that he is in darkness, but that he is in the 
"bonds of iniquity." He finds within an evil 
heart of unbelief — a heart of stone — a deep- 
seated alienation from God, which, according 
to the principles of the Divine government, ren- 
ders him Hable to everlasting death ; nay, God 
has actually passed upon him already the sen- 
tence of condemnation. The individual, we 
say, has a conviction of all this, which mars 
every earthly pleasure, and fixes his thoughts 
intensely on his doom. It is a conviction which 
saddens and depresses the soul, and incapaci- 
tates it for the enjoyment of those things which 
the world covets and esteems. Now, mark ; this 
is not religion ; but a deep sense of the needoi\U 
The indiscriminate observer sometimes con- 
founds this anterior state of anxiety with reli- 
gion. It is, however, only conviction ; and wc 



THE JOY OF SALVATION. 71 

do not pretend there is any joy in such a state 
of mind. But, as the sun shines the brighter 
when the dark cloud is broken, and the mutter- 
ing thunders are dying away in the distance, 
so the soul that flies terror-struck from Mount 
Sinai, and comes in view of the hill of Calvary, 
rejoices the more from the impressive contrast 
of its emotions. 

It is at the point of transition that we wish to 
contemplate it ; when it comes " out of darkness 
into God's marvellous light." In proportion 
to the depth of these convictions and the evils 
which they respect, must be the joy of deliver- 
ance. But who can measure these emotions ; 
or what mind, but that which has felt them, can 
understand the oppressive nature of these con- 
victions ! Various and striking are the emblems 
used in Scripture to denote this wretchedness 
from which the sinner, by the gospel salvation, 
is delivered. It is called a " horrible pit" — a 
^* state of darkness." The soul is said to be 
"lost," to be under "condemnation ;" a prison- 
er in fetters ; " dead in sin ;" " sold under sin." 



12 THE JOY or SALVATION. 

Such are some of the scriptural representations 
of our old state, in which we are previous to 
this great change which brings the joy of sal- 
vation. Every true Christian has felt deeply 
and practically the truth of these representations. 
He has been bound under the burden of sin. 
No incarcerated victim ever felt more keenly 
the darkness and damps of his dungeon. No 
galley-slave ever sighed more oppressively un- 
der the weight of his chains. No wounded hart 
ever panted with keener anguish under the 
barbed shaft. It is in vain to attempt a sketch 
of the sinner's convictions, as he comes in full 
view of a violated law, an offended God, and 
an abused gospel. But deep as are these sor- 
rows, and dreadful as is this darkness, they are 
the measure of that joy of salvation which 
succeeds ; and if we failed to show how op- 
pressive was the burden, we are equally unable 
to exhibit the joy of the release. 

To resume the illustrations just given—or 
rather to apply them still farther — we will ask 
you to go, with the redemption price in your 



THE JOY OF SALVATION. 73 

hand, and unlock the cell of the emaciated cap- 
tive. As you announce to him the liberty 
w^hich he is permitted to enjoy, mark well the 
emotions of his soul. Unclasp his fetters, and 
lead him forth to breathe once more the air of 
heaven. Let him actually feel that he is liber- 
ated ; and that the beauties of God's universe 
are once more his to contemplate and enjoy ; 
— is it possible to describe or even to conceive 
his joy ? Or as Cow^per, in an affecting strain 
of self-applying verse, represents himself the 
stricken deer, with arrow deep infixed, flying 
to the shady covert, and there meeting with 
one who had Himself been shot by the archers, 
and who gently drew out the dart and healed 
the wound ; — so take the poor wounded sinner, 
and go with him to the great Physician. See 
how effectually, yet how gently, the death-tipt 
arrow is withdrawn, and the Balm of Gilead is 
applied ! 

Can we paint the emotion of the wounded 
Israelite, as, stung by the fiery serpent, and 
already experiencing the cold convulsions of 
7 



74 THE JOY OP SALVATION. 

death, he casts his languid eye towards yonder 
brazen emblem? Can we depict his joy as 
that eye rekindles and the pulsations of life re- 
turn ? Now, " as Moses lifted up the serpent 
in the wilderness, even so has the Son of man 
been hfted up ; that whosoever believeth in 
Him should not perish, but have everlasting 
life." O there is nothing in nature — nothing 
in the release from bodily pain — nothing in the 
bestowment of temporal good, that properly 
illustrates the transition from a state of sin and 
condemnation, to one of hope and joy. Spring 
is beautiful as she puts forth her virgin life and 
glories from the apparent death which so long 
had reigned over the face of nature. Her ten- 
der blade ; her half-expanded leaf ; her timid 
flower ; her dew drops ; and her soft, calm 
skies are all animating expressions of new-born 
joy ; but how much more lovely is the soul 
that has just waked up to a life of holiness, cast 
off its grave clothes, come forth out of its sep- 
ulchre, and bears the mild impress of God's 
renewing grace ! Here is a subject for the joy 



THE JOY OF SALVATION, 75 

of angels; and over it they do rejoice. All 
Heaven is moved at such a scene. The soul 
which is the subject of this change, is " full of 
joy with the light of God's countenance." This 
is the joy of salvation — of salvation through 
Jesus Christ — of salvation fronri the curse of 
the law, from the dominion of sin, from th§ 
woes of the second death? 



CHAPTER XI. 

JOYFUL PROMISES. 

If there is any thing on earth allied to tlie 
joys of Heaven, it is the smile on the coun- 
tenance of a new-born soul. The eye is more 
eloquent than the tongue. The moisture that 
bedews it, is no token of sorrow. The storm 
is past ; the winds are hushed ; and these tears 
are like the last drops of the shower, trembling 
and glistening in the joyous sun-beam. Hope 
and love seem to vie with each other in spread- 
ing a verdant path for the feet of the young 
pilgrim. His skies are all bright ; and his song 
is only in exultant strains. This is the young 
convert. His soul has just begun to beat with 
the joys of salvation. 

We could dwell with pleasure on this lovely 
picture ; but we are aware that these early 
joys are not without some passing clouds ; and 
that the soul, in its progress, meets with vicissi- 



JOYFUL PROMISES. 77 

tudes analogous to the varying incidents of an 
earthly pilgrimage. But God has given the 
Christian a staff, on which to lean ; and by 
which — more potent than the magic wand — he is 
enabled to tread, cheerfully and securely, his 
path to the skies. I refer to the promises of 
the Bible. 

When the Christian experiences the joy of 
salvation, all these promises are, thenceforward, 
his inheritance. He has now not only a chart 
delineating his course ; but these starry lights 
to cheer and guide him on his way. Not a 
dangerous pit-fall can occur, nor a venomous 
foe aim its fang against him ; but he has, in 
these promises, expedients and antidotes effec- 
tual to ward off the danger. There is no situ- 
ation into which even his own indiscretion can 
throw him where they will not apply. " Great 
and precious" are these promises, and well cal- 
culated to encourage and animate the pilgrim. 

If we go back to our primitive state, we find 
that whilst our first parents were bleeding un- 
der the wounds which their sin had inflicted, 
7# 



78 JOYFUL PROMISES, 

and whilst the note of condemnation was yet 
ringing in their ears, a most precious promise 
came, like a healing balm, from their injured 
Sovereign. " The seed of the woman shall 
bruise the serpent's head." On this promise 
the patriarchs lived ; and, in view of it, arrang- 
ed the altar and the sacrifice in order to keep 
it the more vividly before the mind. Abra- 
ham took the promise of Jehovah as his guiding 
star, in that pilgrimage which he prosecuted, 
until he rested in the cave of Machpelah. He 
was " the father of the faithful ;" and his con- 
fidence in these assurances of the Almighty 
was such as to justify the appellation. 

But the promises were not confined to a^^ern- 
poral inheritance, even in the case of Abraham 
and his immediate posterity. They included 
Canaan, but pointed to a brighter inheritance 
above. So also with respect to believers, in 
our own days, whilst some of the promises of 
God appertain to " the life that now is," the 
most of them refer to " that which is to come." 

There is no state of mind, nor any outward 



JOYFUL PROMISES. 79 

situation, in which we may not find some Divine 
promise applicable to our wants. How many 
are the fluctuations to which we are liable in 
this sinful and changeful state ! These vicissi- 
tudes are appointed by Divine wisdom and 
goodness to test our sincerity ; to strengthen 
our faith ; and to drive us away from earthly 
supports to the simple and solid basis of heav- 
enly truth. We learn not its preciousness un- 
til we are in circumstances to apply it. Hence, 
when the soul is perplexed and cast down from 
the loss of its sensible joys, it has recourse to 
the promises which declare, that " light is sown 
for the righteous ;" and, " whoso walketh in 
darkness and seeth no light, let him trust in the 
Lord and stay himself upon his God." When 
temptation presses and the believer seems ready 
to yield, he is roused and sustained by the as- 
surance that " God will make a way of escape ;" 
and that if we " resist the devil, he will flee 
from us." In sickness, the Christian can pillow 
his head on the pledge, " thou wilt make all his 
bed in his sickness ;" and in the hour of death 



80 JOYFUL PR0MIS3GS. 

— that dread hour when mortal strength gives 
way — he has the consolatory assurance, that 
" though he walk through the valley of the sha- 
dow of death, no evil shall befall him ; since God 
is with him, and His rod and staff are there to 
comforf him." 

The Divine promises cover all the Christian's 
earthly changes, and refer to all his earthly re- 
lations. They are not only for him ; but for 
" his children^^ and seem to have a prospective 
bearing on their temporal and eternal welfare ; 
as if, in paternal condescension, our Heavenly 
Father intended we should be exempt from an 
over anxiety respecting these dearest objects of 
earth. In the loss of earthly friendships ; in 
deepest poverty ; in the most threatening dan- 
ger ; under persecutions ; and when envy and 
malignity have sharpened their arrows against 
him ; the Christian can go to the Divine word 
and gather fresh strength to suffer, and obtain 
new and glorious motives to persevere in the 
path of duty. In the mighty conflict with self 
and sin, to what can the soldier of the cross look, 



JOYFUL PROMISES. 81 

but to these assurances of strength and of vic- 
tory, which his great Captain and Leader has 
given him ? Here, in this armory, is a piece 
fitted for the soul in every situation of attack 
and of defence. The panoply is complete. 
Clothed in it, no w^eapon that is formed against 
the Christian can prosper. It is more imper- 
vious than that of the famed Achilles, that 
left one mortal spot exposed, to which the fatal 
arrow at last found access. The promises of 
God secure the Christian from ultimate defeat, 
and give him the pledge of final victory. 

No wonder that Bunyan, in his beautiful 
allegory, gave prominence to the scroll which 
Christian carried in his bosom, and by consult- 
ing which in critical junctures he was enabled 
to go on his way rejoicing. This scroll con- 
tained these "great and precious promises." 
How joyfully may all succeeding pilgrims tra- 
vel on to their rest with such sweet, encourag- 
ing assurances ! What a contrast does their 
state present to that of those, who, amid the 



82 JOYFUL PROMISES. 

Storms and tempests of life have no star to 
guide, and no secure anchor to hold them ! 

But these promises not only solace and ani- 
mate the pious mind in view of its own person- 
al state ; they also gild the distant future, as 
it relates to the prospects of Zion, and the final 
triumphs of redemption. Over this fluctuat- 
ing scene the believer can look with a calm con- 
fidence that the Almighty is at work to fulfil the 
great designs of His kingdom, and give to His 
Son the Universal sceptre. Are not these 
promises joyful ? Can he who studies them, 
and trusts in them, be the sport of varying 
winds and adverse currents ? May he not 
plant his feet upon the rock, and contemplate 
the billows that beat harmless against it ? 
Above all, he can glance his eye to that region 
where " there is no more sea ;" and where the 
clouds which here had curtained the footsteps 
of the Almighty will have cleared away, and 
revealed the wisdom of His plans, the benigni- 
ty of His acts, the rectitude of His government, 
and the triumphs of His mercy. 



CHAPTER XIL 



JOYFUL PROSPECTS. 



The animating promises, to which we have 
referred, naturally lead us to contemplate the 
blissful prospects which they unfold. Most of 
them, as was observed, relate to that world 
which is to come. Their full accomplishment 
is to be experienced when the soul has passed 
through its earthly discipline, and reached its 
final and glorious rest. 

The Christian fixes his eye on the end, and 
finds his imagination busied there in combin- 
ing the bright visions of eternal felicity. 

Now, whatever intermediate joys or sorrows 
a person is destined to realize, yet is he cheer- 
ed and sustained if the end wears the aspect of 
predominant good. But by none, except the 
Christian, can this end be contemplated with 
entire satisfaction. We do not deny that even 



84 JOYFUL PROSPECTS. 

he has at times his dark forebodings ; nor do 
we assert, that his faith always mounts to a 
triumphant tone, when he surveys the certainty 
and the solemnity of death. But his rehgion 
certainly does much to neutralize its horrors. 
It gives him the promise of support in the fear- 
ful crisis, and reveals to his faith the certain 
and glorious prospects which lie beyond. It 
assures him that when " flesh and heart shall 
fail, God will be the strength of his heart and 
his portion for ever." It declares that as now 
his greatest burden is sin, hereafter that bur- 
den shall be felt no more ; and that since his 
strongest aspirations here are for greater de- 
grees of holiness, his desire shall be satisfied 
when he awakes in the image and likeness of 
God. 

But exemption from the evils of this fallen 
state — both natural and moral — including an 
amount of good which no imagination can pic- 
ture ; and the positive addition of pure and sat- 
isfying pleasures, as endless in duration as they 
are ennobling in their influence on the soul, give 



JOYFUL PROSPECTS. 85 

US still higher impressions of the Christian's fu- 
ture portion. " Eye hath not seen, nor ear heard, 
neither have entered into the heart of man, the 
things which God hath prepared for them that 
love Him." 

It virould ill become the writer to attempt 
any description of what is indescribable. We 
sometimes try to give an absent friend some 
sketch of natural scenery which has been par- 
ticularly interesting to ourselves. We labor 
to place before him the distinct features of the 
landscape — to throw the same glowing picture 
upon his conceptions which has impressed it- 
self on our own ; but we feel that our powers 
are inadequate to the task. We cannot make 
the scene live and breathe before him. The 
freshness, the fragrance, the sweet sounds, the 
soothing, insinuating beauties which steal in 
through every sense, and tranquilize or enrap- 
ture the heart, we cannot infuse into the de- 
scription. Now, if we strive in vain to sketch 
a scene from nature, so as to make an adequate 
impression, how poor must be the most labored 
8 



86 JOYFUL PROSPECTS. 

attempt to set forth the glories of that world, 
which we have not seen as yet, and of which 
even the primeval earthly paradise was but an 
emblem ! 

When we speak of joyful prospects, we look 
at the end. Man lives more upon the future 
than upon the present. Hope is the busy feel- 
ing, or emotion, that gives elasticity to the soul's 
powers. 

The heir to an estate expects soon to pass 
out of his minority. He chides the leaden- 
winged hours which move so slowly towards 
the period, when he is to take possession of his 
inheritance. His mind is teeming with high 
anticipations of the pleasures which will then 
be at his command. But what is this prospect 
compared with that which the Christian enter- 
tains ? It is not to earthly and withering joys 
that he looks forward ; but " to an inheritance 
incorruptible, and undefiled, and that fadeth not 
away." 

The warrior thinks of the civic crown which 
admiring and grateful citizens are to place upon 



JOYFUL PROSPECTS. 87 

his brow ; and the prospect nerves his arm, 
and sustains his courage. It lights up the dark- 
est scene of conflict, and makes the severest 
toil easy to be borne. The mariner far off on 
the deep hves on the hope of a quiet haven, and 
the greeting of loved ones, whose caresses are 
to make him forget the boisterous winds, and 
the impending dangers of his voyage. But 
what are these prospects compared with the 
immortal crown for which the Christian con- 
tends, and which, if he is " faithful unto death,'^ 
will be given him amid the congratulations of 
heaven's bhssful inhabitants ? What haven 
is so calm as the " haven of eternal rest ;" 
where, after being tossed upon this troubled 
sea, the soul is at last admitted, and moors it- 
self along the banks of that river of life which 
is clear as crystal, and which is skirted by the 
immortal fruits of Paradise I Cheering pros- 
pects these ! Sur«ly the Christian can and 
ought to rejoice. The intermediate events may 
not, to the eye of sense, seem so auspicious as 
from his admitted character we should antici- 



88 JOYFUL PROSPECTS. 

pate ; but we are to estimate his happiness not 
only by what is visible and present, but by 
what is unseen, and what is yet to be reahzed. 
The pathway to our rest, if not all smooth 
and verdant, is sufficiently so to give it a deci- 
ded preference over those which the worldling 
and the sensualist tread. But the great attrac- 
tion lies in the direction which it takes, and in 
the glories to which it leads. We can bear to 
traverse a rugged way, if it terminate in a fer- 
tile country, or if it conduct us to a splendid 
and well-furnished home. Now the Christian's 
course is far from being a rugged one : on the 
contrary, as appears from what has been said, 
it has much to make the traveller elate and 
joyful. But O, its end ! See where it leads 
his feet ! To what a calm and cloudless region 
it conducts him ! Heaven is its termination ! 
Its mansions of rest are ever in view. Like 
the never-fading glory which Bunyan keeps be- 
fore his hero's eye — and which, though far in 
the distance, serves to cheer him on through 
difficulties and dangers ; these promised scenes, 



JOYFUL PROSPECTS. 89 

appeal incessantly to the eye of faith, and sus- 
tain the spirit in its upward flight. Here is a 
view of the Christian's prospects, which even 
they who deny his claim to present felicity must 
admit to be a joyful one. Ah, how often does 
the child of vanity sigh to think that he cannot 
have this world and Heaven too ; and with 
what gladness would he at last accept of the 
good man's prospects, and share his bright re- 
ward. But to do this, he must consent to take 
his cross ; to bear his burdens ; to walk in 
the same path ; then, and not till then, may he 
indulge the hope that " his last end will be Uke 
his.'' 



8* 



CHAPTER XIII. 

OBSTRUCTIONS TO PIOUS JOY. 

Having now developed some of the resources 
of Christian gladness, it is time to inquire if 
we avail ourselves of them, and are as joyful 
as our religion is designed to make us ? 

The very statement of this question brings a 
sigh, I fear, from the reader, who is conscious, 
perhaps, that whilst there is no deficiency in 
his religion, there is a very deep and criminal 
one in himself. 

It is with a view to make the Christian 
understand his privileges, and to improve them 
to the furtherance of his happiness, that these 
pages are indited ; and this cannot be effected 
without laying open some of the obstructions 
which hinder the soul from reaching that mount 
of clear vision and bright prospects to which 
the blessed gospel invites us. 



OBSTRUCTIONS TO PIOUS JOY. 91 

It is a melancholy circumstance — especially 
in its influence upon the unthinking world — 
that the joy of the professors of religion seems 
so seldom to flow directly from their piety. 
Some are scarcely distinguishable from the 
world in their apparent sources of felicity. 
They drink eagerly at the same fountains, and 
I'ange as freely and as exultingly among the 
same pleasures. But little need be said of such, 
since their preferences, and their associates, 
and their habitual joys evince that it is very 
possible to wear the name, without realizing 
the blessings, of the Christian. 

But we will take those who, in the judgment 
of charity, " have passed from death unto life," 
and see whether among even these, there is not 
room for improvement ; whether some serious 
obstructions do not exist to the full develope- 
ment of their moral influence, and to the allow- 
ed exercise of their pious joy. 

In the world of nature, it is astonishing how 
much attention and cultivation will do, in ad- 
vancing the strength and the beauty of her pro- 



03 OBSTRUCTIONS TO PIOUS JOY. 

ductions. The plant that exhibited but a stinted 
growth when wild and uncared for ; or when 
overshadowed by other vegetation, if removed 
from these uncongenial circumstances and set 
in a more favorable position, will soon erect its 
head ; put on additional verdure, and bear 
more abundant fruit. On the other hand, the 
finest tree that grows in the rich fruitery, if 
neglected by the husbandman ; or if transferred 
to a less congenial region, will soon become 
dwarfish and unsightly, even should it not 
actually wither and die. Think ye it is the 
reverse of this in the kingdom of grace ? Has 
Providence no moral lessons to inculcate by 
the analogies of nature ? Are there not ob- 
structions, as well as facilities, to the growth of 
grace, and can we be insensible to the impor- 
tance of ascertaining them ? 

It is not the design of this little work to enter 
minutely into Christian experience, and trace 
all the varying symptoms of the soul under the 
action of its remaining depravity. There are 
causes of depression and fear, which operate 



OBSTRUCTIONS TO PIOUS JOY. ^3 

on the Christian in every stage of his journey ; 
but do not necessarily hinder him in his course ; 
nor, for any length of time, deprive him of his 
spiritual joys. The power of the great adver- 
sary is fatal, somewhat in accordance with the 
manner in which it is brought to bear upon the 
soul. A sudden attack, however overwhelm- 
ing, is less injurious than the gradual, but 
certain relaxation of pious watchfulness* ApoU- 
yon, when striding our path and brandishing 
his fiery darts, is not so much to be dreaded, 
as when^ by some of his subtile agents, he 
spreads a flowery path for our feet, and invites 
us away from our prescribed journey. In the 
former case the dread is but momentary, and 
if the foe be faced, and by grace resisted, the 
Christian soldier, though intensely beset, will 
come off conqueror, and sing the song of victo- 
ry. This will add to his joys instead of dimin- 
ishing them. But, in the other case, the ap- 
proach is so conducted, and with such well- 
concerted schemes and appliances, that the 
Christian is off his guard, and listens to the 



04 OBSTRUCTIONS TO PIOUS JOY. 

tempter before he is aware of his designs. The 
first wrong step seems so easy, and to be so 
slight a deviation from the " king's highway," 
that the Christian ventures to take it ; but he 
soon finds, that to be out of the path is more 
dangerous far than whilst in it, and with his 
face towards Zion, to meet the most formidable 
of his adversaries. How surely, if not speedily, 
will his joys fall off under these wanderings 
from the path of duty ! Be his first emotions, 
as a young convert, ever so pure and joyous, 
they will not abide these subtile insinuations ; 
but, like the tender plant which can meet un- 
hurt the rush of the tempest, yet droops and 
hangs its head under the silent but more fatal 
action of the frost, they will fade under the 
seductive influence of worldly pleasures. It 
will be in unison with the object of this work, 
therefore, to consider the obstructions which 
arise from this latter cause ; inasmuch as in our 
country, and in the present state of society, the 
dangers to vital piety and to all its lovely fruits 
are far greater from the action of earthly in- 



OBSTRUCTIONS TO PIOUS JOY. 95 

fluences than from the sudden onset of the 
prince of darkness. 

Every age has its peculiarities by which the 
state of the Christian Church is greatly affect- 
ed ; and it is important to know what, and 
how numerous are the influences adverse to 
piety in this age, and how certainly Christian 
character is modified by them. An army is 
sometimes overthrown by a direct and power- 
ful assault ; but more frequently perhaps by 
stratagem. It will find itself marching on 
apparently unresisted. The cities will seem to 
be flung open, and the highway clear — some- 
thing like the onward progress of Napoleon's 
grand army in Russia — ^but in the mean time 
the foe, though concealed himself, is observant 
of his victim. The plot is at length developed, 
and the dreadful discomfiture takes place ; in 
which case, if the betrayed army make good 
its retreat, it is with broken ranks, and dis- 
pirited feelings, and trailing standards. Some- 
thing like this is to be apprehended in the in- 
fluence of the world upon the hosts of Israel at 



95 OBSTRUCTIONS TO PIOUS JOY. 

the present day. There is great security on the 
part of Christians ; and great apparent yielding 
on the part of the world, in order to accommo- 
date, and thus draw upon its own ground the 
pledged soldiers of the cross. Here is the 
danger — and let every Christian look at it and 
inquire if Ae, as one of this great army, is not 
marching in the wrong direction. 



CHAPTER XIV. 

CONSTANT CONTACT WITH THE WORLD UNFAVO- 
RABLE TO PIOUS JOY. 

One part of " pure religion" is to keep " un- 
spotted from the world." How few reflect daily 
on this feature of true piety, and how little dan- 
ger is felt by professors of religion from direct 
and constant contact with the world ! But look 
at this beautiful allusion again. How carefully 
does the delicate hand adjust and guard the 
unsoiled garment, as the path becomes ob- 
structed and the dress exposed ! One spot will 
mar its beauty and make its owner sigh ; but 
if, by rough contact with some oftensive object, 
it should be bespattered, it will henceforth be 
laid aside as useless. Is the care which we be- 
stow upon the soul, or even on the Christian 
character, to be compared with this ? And 
would not some professors sigh over a soiled 
9 



98 CONTACT WITH THE WORLD 

garment more than at the gradual diminution 
of spiritual purity, which they are experiencing 
by constant intercourse with the world ? 

But shall we therefore retire into obscurity ; 
and, like the ascetic, pass an act of non-inter- 
course with society, whilst we pore in silent ab- 
straction over our own peculiar feelings ? We 
answer; that one extreme, if dangerous, does not 
justify us in flying to the other, if it be forbid- 
den. Now our Savior, in His commands and 
counsels, has not advised to this latter extreme ; 
but has actually indicated His disapprobation of 
it. By declaring, that His followers are " the 
salt of the earth," and " the light of the world ;" 
and by exhorting them " to let their light shine 
before men," it is clear, that He requires us to 
live in the world, and to illustrate our religion 
before its eyes. In His intercessory prayer, 
also, He says, " I pray not that Thou shouldest 
take them out of the world, but that Thou 
shouldest keep them from the evil." This is 
precisely in harmony with the characteristic of 
pure religion, " to keep unspotted from the 



UNFAVORABLE TO PIOUS JOY. 99 

world ;" and this is all we plead for ; that a 
Christian — if he would not let down his pro- 
fession, and part with his appropriate joy and 
felicity — must walk carefully in a world so 
filled with objects calculated to mar his high 
vocation. 

There are extremes, viz., the ascetic life, 
and the over-tasked and jaded spirit that passes 
its almost entire existence in the busy and 
care-corroding world. We shall not undertake 
to estimate the comparative guilt and danger 
of these extremes ; but simply observe that in 
our times, if there be guilt in the life of an as- 
cetic, it is not very probable that many profes- 
sors of religion will incur it. The danger with 
us lies on the other extreme ; and assimila- 
tion with, rather than separation from, the 
world is likely to involve us in guilt, and to take 
from us our confidence and joy. 

The world has almost given up its persecu- 
ting spirit, either because Christianity has be- 
come so predominant as fearlessly to ask the 
shield of the law to protect her ; or — which it 



100 CONTACT WITH THE WORLD 

is feared is the more probable reason — because 
there is so little of her pure spirit manifested, 
as not to excite opposition ; and hence a sort 
of compromise has gradually, though not avow- 
edly, taken place. The world will tolerate 
piety, with such modifications in the conduct of 
her professors that it will not disturb the fears 
of the worldling ; but rather afford an apology 
for his continued idolatry. The line of separa- 
tion having thus gradually faded, the professor 
is solicited to part with his scruples, and to 
mingle indiscriminately with men of all princi- 
ples and professions. 

Now what is the effect of this ? In the first 
place, the pious man is, by these circumstances, 
thrown off his guard, and goes into the world 
with almost as little fear of evil consequences 
as if he were associating only with the good. 
The next effect of such free and constant inter- 
course is, to diminish the glow of pious feeling 
and to weaken the power of conscience. At 
length the professor can scarcely live out of the 
world. Its business, its politics, its stirring 



UNFAVORABLE TO PIOUS JOY. 101 

events, yea, even its pleasures are gradually be- 
coming topics of deep interest. His joy is now 
derived from other sources than it was wont to 
be. The place of retirement used to have 
attractions ; and the throne of grace used to be 
visited as the soul's happy home. How many 
hours of tranquil delight have been passed in 
secret — the world shut out, and the spirit 
taking excursions to the land of Beulah ; but 
now these joys are gone. Serious obstructions 
have occurred. The world has put in its claim. 
It has gone to the Christian and fastened on 
him anew its chain. It has required of him, 
what all tyrants do, that he should acknow- 
lege no other master. It says to him, " You 
may exercise your religion on the Sabbath — 
when my service cannot be performed — and I 
will allow you a few moments of hurried and 
heartless prayer in the morning and in the eve- 
ning ; but the rest of your time and attention 
I claim for the purposes of business, society, 
and pleasure !" 

We will not undertake to say, how many 
9* 



102 CONTACT WITH THE WORLD 

professors of piety are thus drawn away by the 
world, and live wholly amidst its exciting scenes. 
But many are exposed to this course of life, 
from the peculiar state of society in our day 
and country. Their business and their en- 
gagements render them the easy victims of 
the world's temptations. It is this constant 
contact with the world which we deprecate, 
and which, more than any one cause, we dread 
as undermining the vital principles of piety. Is 
such a Christian happy ? Is his joy " the joy 
of the Lord ?" Ah, if he has ever tasted of 
pious joy, he must feel the sad contrast in the 
meagre and unsatisfying pleasures which are 
tendered to him. Look at Demas. See his 
care-worn brow, that used to wear the smile of 
Heaven, and his sorrow-shaded face that seems 
to say, " My religious joys are gone ;" and yet 
he has too much conscience left to appropriate 
without fearful misgivings the pleasures of the 
world. If he would speak out, he would ex- 
claim — " I was once a happy man, I lived on 
the promises of God, and gathered my joys 



UNFAVORABLE TO PIOUS JOY. 103 

along the green pastures of His grace. I loved 
to go alone and commune with my Maker, and 
felt as if the w^orld w^as but a vanity. Alas, 
w^hat am I now ? Day after day I am busied 
and anxious about many things ; whilst the 
" one thing needful" is neglected. The busi- 
ness I have chosen, and the engagements which 
I have made, drive me on, against the remon^ 
straying voice of conscience, whilst my soul is 
oppressed with the fearful idea of final apostacy 
and ruinT 



CHAPTER XV, 

THE SAME SITBJECT CONTINUED. 

The lamentation of Demas, with which the 
last chapter concludes, implies a fault too com- 
mon among professing Christians ; especially 
those whose business and engagements lead 
them into frequent contact with the world. 
This obstruction to their piety, and of course 
to their true felicity and joy, is great in pro- 
portion to the time consumed and the interest 
felt in earthly pleasures and connexions. 

We do not admit the impossibility of ming- 
ling with the world and still retaining our peace 
of mind, our Christian influence^ and our pious 
joy. Many might be named, who keep " the 
garment unspotted,^' and the soul unclogged 
amid the cares of earth, and under the pres- 
sure of its daily toil. It would be an argument 
against our religion, if it disqualified its posses- 



CONTACT WITH THE WOULD, ETC. 105 

sor for the performance of any duty, social, 
civil or political ; if it did not, in fact, fit him 
the better to discharge these obligations. It is 
in accordance with the spirit of Christianity to 
meet cheerfully every occasion which Provi- 
dence furnishes for the promotion of the gen- 
eral good. It is the duty of her professors to 
shrink from no burden which may lawfully be 
borne, and to retreat from no station — if person- 
ally qualified — in which they may serve their 
country without dishonoring their religion. 
" Faith overcomes the world." This is the tes- 
timony of Heaven. But this victory implies 
not a retreat from, but a conflict with, the foe. 
We are to pray, not to be " taken out of the 
world ; but to be kept from the evil." 

But whilst all this is true ; it is nevertheless 
equally true that mingling constantly with the 
world is a perilous experiment, upon which few 
can venture without detriment to their religion. 
The danger arises from not fully understanding 
the tendency of worldly influences upon the 
soul ; and also from not taking the proper pre- 



106 CONTACT WITH THE WOULD 

cautions to counteract it. One of these precau- 
tions is, to allot a sufficient portion of time for 
the daily, habitual improvement of the pious 
affections. If this were done, there would be 
comparatively little danger from the subtile foe. 
The Christian is represented as a warrior, 
clothed in a panoply which he is to use both 
for attack and for defence. Now this armor 
is to be on him continually. It is also requisite 
that every day he examine it, to see if it be 
well fitted, and properly polished ; since not a 
day passes in which his enemy is not watching 
to plant " an arrow between the joints of the 
harness." But how can this be done, if the sol- 
dier is always on the field and never in his 
tent ? By mingling constantly with his foes, he 
may be overpowered through weariness, and 
have his armor stript from him ere he is aware 
of it. But waiving figurative language, it must 
be confessed that there is great negligence in 
many as to the manner in which their closet 
duties are performed ; and a miserly appropri- 
ation of time to God and to the soul. They 



UNFAVORABLE TO PIOUS JOY. 107 

live too constantly in the world, to allow of their 
living in it without great detriment to their 
piety. To walk unharmed this dangerous path, 
the Christian must duly contemplate his expo- 
sedness, and so proportion his time, between 
his business engagements and the claims of de- 
votion, as that the latter shall neutralize com- 
pletely the injurious tendency of the former. 
There must be daily retirement, and enough of 
it, or the soul will lose its joys, if not its piety, 
amid the bustling scenes of earth. 

It is a fixed law of our nature, that whatever 
most constantly appeals to the thoughts, acts 
powerfully upon the moral affections, and thus 
gives the impress of itself upon the soul. All 
experience testifies to this. Let, then, the 
Christian plunge into the agitated sea of earthly 
cares, and, from day to day, fix his thoughts 
upon the business, the plans, the politics and the 
pleasures of the world ; let him give his mind 
intensely and habitually to these things, and 
what will become of his religion ? What judge- 
ment will men form of it ? But suppose, in the 



108 CONTACT WITH THE WORLD 

mean time, but a very small portion of each 
day is allotted to prayer and other devotional 
duties ; or, what perhaps is possible, these duties 
are irregularly and superficially performed ; 
where will be the expression of his piety, and 
who in his case would suppose that it was the 
main-spring of the soul's felicity ? Is it not easy 
to see that the world must, under such circum- 
stances, impress itself strongly on the mind, and 
proportionably efface the divine image of piety ? 
Let the Christian, on the other hand, consider 
well his exposedness ; and so arrange his af- 
fairs that religion shall have its just claim in the 
apportionment of his time. Let him not be in 
the world except when duty and necessity call 
him there ; and let him prepare, by God^s 
grace, for coming in conflict with it. It must 
be an habitual, daily preparation. Some pro- 
fessors of religion, who could be named, appear 
to act on the principle of putting off converse 
with their own hearts until old age or sickness 
compels them to it ; and they seem to under- 
stand our Lord, when he savs " work while the 



UNFAVORABLE TO PIOUS JOY. 109 

day lasteth," as calling them to an unremitted 
effort for worldly good. Alas, such will bitterly 
lament their course ! The happy Christian 
gives a due proportion of his time daily to his 
God. He has his seasons of retirement, and 
will not allow the intrusive world to rob him 
of them. He is thus prepared for the inter- 
course and collision of active life, and is ena- 
bled to walk the fiery furnace unscorched by 
its flame. His mind is habitually turned to 
God, and his religion sanctifying his worldly 
business, makes it the occasion of a richer de- 
velopement of his heaven-born nature. 

Gains is called to bear as many and as op- 
pressive worldly burdens as any man. But his 
religion suffers not by this necessity. Indeed 
it is his piety which enables him so calmly to 
meet, and to discharge the arduous duties of 
his station. Wherever you see him his coun- 
tenance is calm ; and he is always ready to 
speak of higher joys, even when the worldgoes 
prosperously with him. He is evidently a man 
of prayer. His earliest thoughts are given to 
10 



110 CONTACT WITH THE WORLD, ETC. 

God, and ere the business of the day, or the 
engagements of social life — clamorous as they 
are for his attention — have preferred their re- 
quest, he is settling the higher claims of the 
soul ; and by earnest prayer is equipping it for 
its daily conflict. Gains is no recluse. He is 
not indifferent to the pleasures of life, when 
they may be enjoyed without the sacrifice of 
principle ; nor is he backward in giving his in- 
fluence and his toil in all that respects even the 
temporal good of his fellow-men. But one look 
at the man will tell you, that his highest quali- 
fication is that he is a Christian. His joys are 
evidently those of true piety. He keeps the 
private altar bright with the incense of devo- 
tion, and by first making sure his walk with 
God, he is enabled to go forth into the world 
with the calm consciousness that He who has 
appointed to him its duties, and exposed him to 
its dangers, will assist him in the discharge of 
the one, and will protect him from the other. 
It is needless to add that he is a happy man. 



CHAPTER XVI. 

tht: pursuit of riches unfavorable to a 
christian's happiness. 

Why is it that some Christians are found in 
such constant contact with the world ? Why 
are closet duties abridged or neglected, whilst 
time is freely and even lavishly given to busi- 
ness and to pleasure ? Ah, it has been sadly 
answered, in the almost unbounded thirst for 
gain, which, like a sweeping epidemic, has 
found its way into the habitations and the hearts 
of the pious, as well as among others. There 
is nothing in modern times which has so fearful^ 
ly threatened the cause of vital piety ; and if a 
kind Providence had not met the evil by an 
overwhelming rebuke, it is impossible to calcu- 
late how deep and wide-spread it might have 
become. The ark of God was truly in a peril- 
ous state. It seemed destined, under this fear- 



112 THE PURSUIT OF RICHES UNFAVORABLE 

fill rush after Mammon, to fall into the hands of 
the Philistines. 

The astonishing anomaly has been witness- 
ed of men, professing to live above the world, 
wholly bent on acquiring its possessions. Those 
who by their vows renounce its pomps and 
its vanities, have been seen foremost in plans to 
secure these distinctions; and even ostentatious 
in the exhibition of them. Now we would 
know if the self-denying religion of Jesus 
authorizes this course ; or if piety is to be held 
responsible for conduct, by which her principles 
are outraged and set at defiance ! Alas, her 
bosom has bled under this wound until her very 
existence has been seriously threatened ! 

It will not be denied, I presume, that we are 
under obligations to imitate our Savior, as well 
as to believe in Him. Indeed we cannot truly 
believe, without imitating Him. 

But must we imitate Him in His poverty ? 
Must we cast away our pillows of down, and 
vacate our comfortable mansions, that, like 
Jesus, we may " not have where to lay our 



TO A christian's HAPPINESS. 113 

heads ?" Or must we neglect to provide for 
our own — to place our families in independent 
circumstances ? " Surely," says the thrifty and 
money-making Christian, " piety does not re- 
quire this of us." Well, admit that she does 
not ; admit that she allows us to sleep on our 
soft pillows ; to live in fine houses ; to ride in 
splendid vehicles ; and to feast on rich dainties ; 
whilst He whom we serve, possessed none of 
these things; or, admit, if your taste be such, that 
she allows you to prefer plainer accommodations 
with the sweet consciousness of more hoarded 
treasure — and the conduct of many, professedly 
pious, would seem to claim that religion does 
allow all this — admit it, and we have still to 
ask what she disallows ? Is there any abridge- 
ment of our earthly desires, which she de- 
mands? If there is none; if we may embark 
in the pursuit of riches with as unbridled 
an appetite as the professed votaries of the 
world, and vie with them in the manifestation 
of external grandeur ; it must follow that Jesus 
did not mean what He said, or that Ho v,^as mis- 
10* 



114 THE PUKSUIT OP RICHES UNFAVORABLE 

taken, when He declared, " Ye cannot serve 
God and Mammon." There is some difference 
between literally impoverishing ourselves for 
the sake of being like Christ ; and manifesting 
a totally opposite character, in a greedy and 
all-absorbing pursuit of the world. There is 
not quite so much danger in the former case of 
serving God too much ; as there is in the latter^ 
of not serving him at all. It has not been the 
fault of Christians that they have been over- 
righteous in this matter. 

It is a subject for serious inquiry how far the 
pursuit of riches is consistent with true and 
genuine piety ; and whether the changes — 
political and social — which have taken place 
since Christ laid down his self-denying rules, 
do really permit us to overlook their obligation, 
and make common cause with other men in all 
their prospects and their plans of gain? In 
order to settle this point, we seem to need a 
second advent — that, with His fan in His hand, 
Jesus should come to sift out the connningled 
opinions and practices which have supervened ; 



TO A christian's HAPPINESS. 115 

and, separating the precious from the vile, to 
show who are and who are not His genuine dis- 
ciples. 

But is there no criterion by which we can 
understand the mind of Christ on this subject ? 
Is there no voice within that utters its verdict, 
and assents or dissents to the position which is 
sometimes taken on the question? Hearest 
thou not something in the secret soul, that 
speaks of departed joys, and a backslidden 
state, and overclouded hopes ? Is there not, in 
the Christian's experience, a response to what 
Jesus has said — "Ye cannot serve God and 
Mammon?" How many are there who ran 
well the first part of their race ; who seemed 
to have their eye on the heavenly prize, with 
a fair prospect of obtaining it ; but who caught? 
as by a side glance, a view of the tempting bait 
of riches ; and all at once their feet loitered in 
the course ; their eye was averted from the goal ; 
and, ere long, they were found running, with 
equal if not greater zeal, after the rewards of 
Mammon ! But how has this diversion of their 



116 THE PURSUIT OF RICHES UNFAVORABLE 

interest and zeal operated upon their spirits ? 
Has it had the effect to augment or to diminish 
their joy ? Are they as happy in serving Mam- 
mon, as they were formerly in serving God ? 
But it is replied, '* We have not given up our 
religion ; although it has not, vv^e admit, the 
same influence upon our happiness as it once 
had. We have not actually lost sight of its ob- 
ligations ; nor intermitted entirely its duties. 
We w^orship God in the family, if we do not in 
the closet ; and we are found in our seats in the 
sanctuary, even if we have lost our interest in 
the social prayer-meeting. Besides, by gaining 
more of the world we are enabled to give more 
for the spread of the gospel ; so that we cannot 
be charged with an actual defection from the 
ranks of the pious." Sad confession this, of 
pious joy sacrificed on the altar of Mammon ! 
Poor apology for relinquishing the crown of 
glory ; and turning aside after " the lust of the 
eye and the pride of life." And what, after all, 
is the gain ? Will it compensate for the loss of 
the soul's true felicity ? Will it make up for 



TO A christian's HAPPINESS. 117 

the consciousness of the disapprobation of 
Heaven, which, even in moments of earthly 
prosperity, must be a heavy drav^-back on our 
joy ? Shall we run more fleetly on our race 
after loading our pockets w^ith golden w^eights ; 
or w^restle w^ith more success against " principa- 
lities and powers," when we have relaxed our 
moral energies by earthly indulgences ? How 
easy it is to find excuses for our sins ! What 
specious but sophistical arguments will Satan 
urge, to set us upon a pursuit of the world, and 
thus rob us of our peace and joy ? "All these 
will I give thee, if thou wilt unchain thy affec- 
tions from the gospel chariot, and link them to 
Mammon's car ; and why should not you have 
the means of enjoyment ; and your children the 
means of support, as well as others ? Then, 
too, see how much good you can g?o with riches ; 
what a field of benevolence they will open to 
you. Why need you hesitate ? There is no 
church censure that can be passed upon you 
for this pursuit." The reasoning seems good, 
says " the old man which is corrupt," and I 



118 THE PURSUIT OF RICHES, ETC. 

will act upon it. So farewell the peace of God 
until I have gained the peace which the " world 
giveth !" 



CHAPTER XVII. 

SOCIAL AND BUSINESS PLEDGES SOMETIMES OB- 
STRUCTIONS TO A christian's JOY. SOCIAL 

PLEDGES. 

The Christian professor has an important 
practical point to settle, viz., how much inter- 
course with the world is safe and allowable ; 
and what proportion of his time should be em- 
ployed daily in communion with God. 

Such are the varying circumstances and 
temperaments of individuals, that one standard, 
it must be evident, will not apply in all cases. 
But by a conscientious and quick-sighted Chris- 
tian, the following rule, or rather criterion, may 
be safely consulted. If he finds his interest in 
the closet on the wane, and his interest in world- 
ly business or social pleasure gradually deep- 
ening, he should suspect that tpo small a pro- 
portion of time is given to devotion. In this 



120 SOCIAL PLEDGES OBSTRUCTIONS 

case he is evidently too much in the world. 
His happiness as a Christian is thereby endan- 
gered ; and he is called upon at once to re- 
trieve lost ground. His confession and his 
prayer must be, Lord " I have gone astray like 
a lost sheep : seek Thy servant ; for I do not 
forget Thy commandments." 

The great sources of temptation, in our day, 
are social and business engagements. These 
are entered into sometimes, without due reflec- 
tion on their tendency to weaken the divine 
life of piety in the soul. Some Christian peo- 
ple seem to think, or rather seem to act as if 
they thought, they can take " coals of fire in 
the bosom and the clothes not be burned." 

The pleasures of social life are tendered to the 
Christian, on the ground that they are innocent, 
and therefore allowable ; and, without much 
discrimination as to the forms they assume, or 
the deleterious ingredients accompanying them, 
he is persuaded to indulge himself in them, 
even at the expense of his pious joys. 

The world knows well how to graduate 



TO A christian's JOY. 121 

these social entertainments, so as not to alarm 
the weak conscience, nor, at the outset to betray 
its designs. But step by step is the unapprised 
soul led on ; until it can relish, and even desire, 
a scale of pleasurable excitement, which once 
would have startled its fears, and driven it back 
to its peaceful and soul-satisfying retirement. 

An invitation comes to Theodosia, indi- 
ted in the usual complimentary strain ; in which 
it is affirmed, that nothing more than a social 
few are to pass an evening in a very quiet way. 
The plan is well-adjusted, and the timid Chris- 
tian is induced to accede. But from this mo- 
ment there is an unaccountable perturbation in 
her mind. She has been so long accustomed 
to the calm pleasures of home, and especially 
to the pure delights of communion with God, 
that the bare anticipation of so different a 
scene, seems to have entirely unsettled her 
peace. It is like the sudden inundation of a 
river, which, a few hours before, flowed with 
clear and gentle stream ; but is now rushing on 
with an impetuous and turbid flood. The busy 
11 



122 SOCIAL PLEDGES OBSTRUCTIONS 

notes of preparation are now heard ; and the 
mind, torn from its accustomed topics, is forced 
to think of frivolities. How hard it is now to 
read, with fixed attention, a chapter in the Bible ! 
How difficult to send the '^ thoughts that breathe" 
to the mercy-seat above 1 Who can doubt 
that a violent shock is felt through the soul ! 
Away flies this dove from the peaceful ark, to 
disport its wing over the agitated scene which 
is prepared for it. The scene is brilhant be- 
yond anticipation ; captivating to the senses ; and 
impressive to the youthful imagination. The 
quiet social convention is wonderfully transmu- 
ted into the gay and almost uproarous assembly. 
Forced smiles and flattering compliments have 
tisurped the place of profitable conversation ; 
and every thing, in the company and in the ar- 
rangements, seems adapted to banish serious 
thought from the mind. Is Theodosia happy, 
in this gay circle ? There is, in her counte- 
nance, something that seems to say, "I am 
trying to be happy." It will be well for her 
if this trial is unsuccessful It will be to her 



TO A christian's JOY. 123 

praise, and for her peace, if the next similar 
temptation is resisted. The danger is, that she 
may acquire a fondness for that which, at firsts 
was rather tolerated than desired. To be out 
of society, it will be suggested, is not her duty ; 
— as if society was found alone where the 
crowded contact of frivolous minds exists. Yes, 
the danger is that she may be induced to repeat 
the experiment, and, by being often in such cir- 
cumstances, gradually to exchange her former 
joys, for those which are altogether empty and 
unsatisfying. On the altar of mere social plea- 
sure, she may be tempted to sacrifice sweet 
peace of conscience. Her Bible, her closet, her 
walks of usefulness, may be neglected to attend 
to the calls of time's most cruel murdererSo 
We again ask, can she be happy ? 

The true and proper test of these social influ- 
ences, is to be found in their effect on the devo- 
tional habits. If they break up the duties of 
the closet, indispose the mind for meditation, 
and make the Bible a dull book, we have rea- 
son to suspect they are indulged to an unlawful 



124 SOCIAL PLEDGES OBSTRUCTIONS 

extent. There is then something in them posi- 
tively injurious to piety of heart, and we must 
at once restrict ourselves to a more moderate, 
and less exciting scale of pleasures ; one which 
will leave us, at least as favorably disposed for 
Christian duty as it found us. 

Let us not be understood, by these remarks, 
as condemning all social entertainments ; nor, 
as arguing against a free interchange of thought 
and feehng not strictly religious ; as wishing to 
convert every circleof friendship into a prayer- 
meeting ; but simply as putting the Christian on 
his guard, against the exciting and deleterious 
influence of those scenes, where the direct ob- 
ject evidently is, to elicit the sensual and to 
crush the spiritual feelings of man. Young 
Christians should be cautioned against commit- 
ing themselves in social engagements which 
may embarrass their consciences, weaken their 
moral strength, and extinguish their pious joys. 
Having embraced the cross, and professed that 
their superior attachments are found in true 
piety, they must be careful to impress the 



TO A christian's JOY. 125 

world with the fact, that, having tasted of purer 
pleasures, they have no backward longings after 
those which they have abandoned. If they are 
easily drawn off to indulge in mere earthly ex- 
citement, it will be inferred that they are dis- 
appointed in the power of piety to make them 
happy ; and thus will their conduct confirm the 
pleasurist in his fatal choice. Piety will make 
them happy, if they do not introduce a rival to 
her influence ; but how can any man expect 
that she will continue to smile upon him, if he 
take to his bosom her deadliest enemy, the 
world I How can the youthful professor, just 
alluded to, expect that piety will follow her to 
scenes where its name is never mentioned ; or 
if mentioned, is too often alluded to only by 
way of slant or ridicule ! How can she expect 
that religion will fill her soul with its heavenly 
joys, when that soul is already pre-occupied 
with grovelling pleasures ! Let her take her 
stand against the world's allurements, and find 
in God, and in His service her supreme delight ; 
and then will piety pour upon her its celestial 
11* 



126 SOCIAL PLEDGES, ETC. 

smile ; and then, like the dove with tired wing, 
will she find a hand stretched forth from the 
ark to draw her in, and give her a resting place, 
that loses none of its charms from its contrast 
with earth's tumultuous and stormy scenes. 



CHAPTER XV III. 

m 
BUSINESS PLEDGES. 

When a Christian can mingle in general so- 
ciety without injury to his piety, or the sacrifice 
of his peace, it may be proper for him, to a cer- 
tain extent, to indulge the social propensities ; 
but in this case, it is implied that his highest 
joys are not gathered from such intercourse. 
Even when he practises it, it must be on the 
principle of rendering the social sympathies 
subservient to his-^usefulness — of laying open 
opportunities to do good among those with 
whom he associates — thus making piety the 
end, and social converse the medium through 
which it is promoted. But, after all, the Chris- 
tian will find that his happiest hours are pass- 
ed ^' among the saints and near his God ;" and 
that the interchange of feehngs with those who 
are walking the same road, and aiming at the 



128 BUSINESS PLEDGES. 

same mark, and encountering the same difficul- 
ties and dangers, is fraught with more real sat- 
isfaction, than mere social pleasures, however 
refined the intercourse, or intellectual the con- 
versation. 

There is another point, of no small import- 
ance, which deserves consideration, viz., the 
business pledges or engagements into which 
Christians are sometimes drawn to the injury 
of their piety, and the extinguishment of their 
religious joy. 

Prompted by the desire of success in their 
business, or hstening to injudicious counsel, good 
men are sometimes sadly ensnared by the world. 
They will enter into engagements which, at the 
time of making them, they sincerely intend to 
fulfil, not calculating upon the possible reverses 
of the times, nor the changeful nature of com- 
mercial affairs ; but alas ! they thus find them- 
selves often sadly committed to men who have 
little sympathy with their distress, and less re- 
gard still for their reputation as Christians. 
Now for a professor of piety to see himself in 



• BUSINESS PLEDGES. 129 

this snare ; and to know that a thousand tongues 
are busy in remarking on his situation, and in- 
sinuating, perhaps, that " his religion has made 
him no better than he should be," must oppress 
his spirits and annihilate his peace of mind. It 
is the worst policy imaginable, for a pious man 
to stand deeply pledged to those who are mere 
men of the world. He should prefer even pov- 
erty to this ; nor should any counsel of friends, 
real or pretended ; nor any hopes of worldly 
gain, however flattering at the time, influence 
him to such a course as may, in the fluctuations 
of trade, place his character for integrity in a 
suspicious light, and lay upon his soul a crush- 
ing anxiety. It is impossible for a pious man 
to be happy amid such embarrassments, espe- 
cially if they have come upon him in conse- 
quence of reckless pledges, made under a too 
eager desire for the wealth of this world. 

The man whose heart is weaned from earth- 
ly attachments, or who has an habitual prefer- 
ence for heavenly things, will not be likely to 
fall into this snare ; but, satisfied with mode- 



130 BUSINESS PLEDGES. * 

rate success in his worldly calling, will^so or- 
der his affairs, as, if possible, to " owe no man 
any thing but love." At all events, he will 
make no pledges which he has not a fair pros- 
pect of redeeming, so that, in any event, his 
religious character shall not be impugned ; nor 
his religious joys be extinguished. Such a man 
will retain his equanimity of soul, and go on 
his way/ejoicing, even when others are " care- 
ful and troubled about many things." 

It has become customary to prosecute en- 
larged business enterprises by means of joint- 
stock companies : and Christian men have 
found themselves often very painfully commit- 
ted by the operation of some of these associa- 
tions. A majority of the company, looking 
only at the gains which the association was 
formed to secure, feel it to be a matter of 
small consequence, if in the prosecution of 
their enterprise, the holy Sabbath is violated. 
This is almost universally true of Rail-road 
and Steam-boat companies. Now at the haz- 
ard of being considered over-scrupulous, Chris- 



BUSINESS PLEDGES. 131 

tians are called upon not to commit themselves 
in any combination whose acts shall conflict 
with the laws of God. It will be of no avail 
to sy that, " being in a minority they cannot 
control this thing."* This is a sort of apology 
which will not stand the test of Christian casu- 
istry, especially if, whilst uttering it, they ex- 
pect to receive a portion of the price of dese- 
crated Sabbaths. And if Christians find them- 
selves thus implicated in the violation of God's 
holy day, it is their duty, as speedily as possi- 
ble to cut loose from the alliance. 

How many consciences have been burdened 
by these indiscreet connexions ; and how much 
Christian peace has been sacrificed, to promote 
what is called public spirit and general improve- 
ment ! The grand question for a pious man 
to ask, and to settle, before he commits himself 
in any business transaction is, whether it can be 
prosecuted without injury to his conscience, and 
the infraction of God's laws. He has no right 
to sacrifice his joy as a Christian, for all the 
wealth which Mammon can confer. He must 



132 BUSINESS PLEDGES. 

**seek first the kingdom of God." He must not 
"touch any unclean thing." He must avoid 
not only the reality^ but even " the appearance 
of eviU^ With these precepts before him, how 
can a pious man enter, with any reasonable ex- 
pectations of success, upon a business, either on 
his individual responsibility or as a member of 
a company, which is to be prosecuted to the 
injury of public morals and in violation of the 
decalogue ? How can the mind of a Christian 
be at peace while such an imputation may be 
cast upon him ? To obtain and to preserve true 
peace of mind, we must keep " a conscience 
void of offence toward God, and toward men." 
And how can this be done, if Christians will 
commit themselves to circumstances which tend 
directly to embarrass conscience, and to weak- 
en the moral force of Divine institutions ? How 
much more to be coveted is the condition of 
the pious but untrammeled artisan, who, con- 
tent with his daily earnings, has none of these 
equivocal connexions to tempt him, and none 
of these implicated social and business vices to 



BUSINESS PLEDGES. 133 

sully his profession ! He can sing his hymn of 
praise at night, and offer his devout thanks- 
giving to God, M^ith no such draw-back upon 
his grateful feelings, as must be experienced 
where heaven's gifts are coveted and obtained 
under circumstances, the morality of which is 
at least very questionable. 

Piety, after all, exerts its influence to make 
the soul happy, only where that influence is al- 
lowed to predominate. It is unreasonable to 
ask any more of it. It is requiring too much, 
to expect that it will kindle up its joys in the 
heart where every counteracting influence is 
courted, or keep alive on the altar the fires of 
devotion, when the cold flood of earthly cares 
and pleasures is continually poured upon it, to 
extinguisii them. Nor let piet)^ be blamed for 
that absence of felicity, which characterizes so 
many professors, when, if the case were inves- 
tigated, it would be seen, that it is not piety, 
but the want of it, which operates to dim the 
lustre of their example. Let the Christian 
keep aloof from those ensnaring connexions to 
13 



134 BUSINESS PLEDGES. 

which we have alluded ; and, acting on the 
principle that " godliness with contentment is 
great gain," let him seek mainly and constant- 
ly the " one thing needful," and his path, if it 
be less attractive to earthly minds, will have 
the approbation of God, and lead the soul to 
joys that are pure and unending. 



CHAPTER XIX. 

THE INFLUENCE OF LIGHT READING OPPOSED 
TO THE PROGRESS OF PIETY. 

The apparatus which the great adversary 
has brought into action, in order to weaken the 
moral influence of Christians, is varied and 
well-appHed. To the sources of evil already 
enumerated, we must add the flood of light and 
ephemeral productions so constantly issuing 
from the Enghsh and American press. 

These are not of course intended for the eye 
and the mind of the Christian ; but are gradua- 
ted, in their sentiments and style, to the great 
mass of volatile spirits, who wish for something 
new and racy to kill a heavy hour, and to 
kindle a little temporary excitement. 

But, unhappily, they too often find their way 
into those hands which ought to " handle," in- 
stead thereof, " the word of life." The univer- 



136 THE INFLUENCE OF LIGHT READING 

sal cry is — " Have you read this very interesting 
work ?" The nevs^spapers are lavish in their 
encomiums ; the review enlarges on the genius 
of its author ; and the fashionist seizes the 
volume yet reeking from the press, in order to 
be among the first who " have seen it." It is 
not to be wondered at, then, that this tempting 
bait should find its way into the library of a 
Christian, or be seen among the chaster pro- 
ductions which adorn his parlor table. What 
" every body reads," it is inferred, " ought to be 
read by me. I shall be singular not to have 
perused it, when the whole town are descanting 
upon its merits." So, with a little such reason- 
ing, backed by that fondness for novelty and 
excitement which piety may repress, but does 
not extinguish, the Bible is suddenly closed, and 
the flippant volume is already riveting the 
attention. 

It came in at the hour of evening prayer. It 
seemed as if the spiritual foe, anticipating the 
time when the Christian was to have been on 
his knees, taking by " violence the kingdom of 



OPPOSED TO THE PROGRESS OF PIETY. 137 

Heaven," sent this light-armed enemy to divert 
his attention, and to deprive him of the hallo w^- 
ed enjoyment. But will he allows the intruder 
to rob him of his devotions ? Will not only the 
Bible, but prayer be postponed until the exciting 
tale is ended ? Alas, it is to be feared w^hen 
once the fascination has commenced, the charm 
will not be broken, even by the voice of con- 
science muttering in under-tones of mispent 
time, and neglected duties. The midnight hour 
has come, the last leaf is cut, and the book is 
closed. Now ask the interested reader, what 
are his or her feelings ? Are they in tune for 
devotion ? Does the excited mind, re-conning 
the incidents and revolving the whole scene, 
return with satisfaction to communion with its 
Bible? Is there not an oppressive sense of 
wrong which scarcely admits of even a hurried 
prayer ? Does not the soul, on the succeed- 
ing day, carry somewhat of a depressed air ; 
as if violence had been done to its better feel- 
ings, which, like a vs^ound inflicted on the body, 



12* 



138 THE INFLUENCE OF LIGHT READING 

must bleed for a season ere they can be healed ? 
Conscience is quick to perceive a wrong, and 
never fails to administer its retributive reproofs. 
However earnestly some may plead for the 
lawfulness of this species of reading, all Chris- 
tians will allow that they are not the happier 
for its indulgence. Life's hours are too pre- 
cious, and its duties too serious and responsible, 
to allow the one to be consumed, and the other 
to be postponed, or set aside, for such vanities. 
Is it not worth our while here to discuss the 
question, whether in no case these works may 
be innocently perused ? The object of these 
pages being to promote the joys of piety, and 
to caution its professors against whatever is 
likely to impede them ; the writer feels himself 
called upon to state only the general injurious 
tendency of such productions. He would re- 
commend to the Christian, who wishes to avoid 
every means of deterioration, habitual absti- 
nence from this frivolous species of reading. 
If wc are singular in this respect, it will be in 



OPPOSED TO THE PROGRESS OF PIETY. 139 

exact accordance with the Divine intention in 
redeeming us ; viz., "that we might be di pecu- 
liar people." 

There is an immense amount of light periodi- 
cal reading — embracing reviews, the periodical 
miscellany, the daily and weekly newspaper — 
which would urge itself upon the Christian's at- 
tention ; and which is designed to occupy only 
the interstices of his time. But who has not 
felt the pernicious influence of this ephemeral 
reading, in absorbing not merely the leisure 
hour, but valuable portions of the day ; and in- 
vading even the sacred season allotted to devo- 
tion ! Where this is the case, it must be con- 
ceded, that they become serious impediments 
to the fruits of piety ; and that no Christian can 
look for peace and joy from his religion, if he 
listen to these rival claimants, and permit his 
mind to be the sport of so many counteracting 
influences. Our time is too precious to allow of 
such heavy drafts from these importunate visi- 
ters who, in many cases, have nothing to re- 
commend them but a fine dress and a flippant 



140 THE INFLUENCE OF LIGHT READING 

tongue. A Christian mind cannot give some of 
them audience, without derogating somewhat 
from its dignity ; nor converse intimately with 
them, without acquiring an injurious taint from 
the contact* 

The writer would be understood as admitting 
of exceptions ; and, far from a general pro- 
scription of periodical works, he would re- 
commend a judicious selection as highly impor- 
tant and useful. But, in this case, he must urge 
the importance of giving them their legitimate 
place, as to the interest which they claim, and 
the time which is employed in perusing them. 
If there is a fondness for such reading which 
weakens our attachment to the Bible, and to 
works of practical piety, we have reason to 
suspect that already their influence has become 
injurious. If important Christian duties are ne- 
glected or postponed to gratify this thirst for 
news, or in the mere indulgence of our taste ; it 
is evident we have allowed this reading a place 
which its comparative insignificance, and our 
Christian obligations will not justify. We thus 



OPPOSED TO iHE PltOGllESS OF PIETY. 141 

allow it to rob us of our peace of conscience, 
the possession of which is indispensable to our 
pious joy. How admirably does piety adjust 
these varying claims, giving to man a scale by 
which he can know how much importance to 
attach to each, and in what place the several 
duties and pleasures of life shall fall. If we 
attempt to reverse this order, or fail to recog- 
nise the great principle on which it is founded ; 
viz., " Seeking first the kingdom of God," we 
at once put " darkness for light and light for 
darkness ;" we " fall into temptation and a 
snare ;" our Christian peace is interrupted ; and 
we " pierce ourselves through with many sor- 
rows." Aware of this, the truly devoted and 
happy Christian determines on a systematic 
life ; in which every duty shall have precedence 
according to its importance ; time shall be so 
allotted as to meet and settle the highest claims 
first ; and even the innocent gratifications shall 
have a place ; but not such a place as shall dis- 
qualify the soul for its great work, or weaken 
its desires for the pure joys of devotion. 



CHAPTER XX. 

THE SPIRIT OF CONTROVERSY OPPOSED TO THE 
EXERCISE OF PIOUS JOY. 

There is but one more positive obstruction to 
the joy of salvation, which shall claim the con- 
sideration of the reader ; — it is the spirit of re- 
ligious contention. 

" Offences must come/' and differences of 
opinion in relation to religious doctrines v^ill 
exist ; and hence we may infer, that the colli- 
sion of opposing sects, and of members of the 
same sect, with shades of difference, will ope- 
rate more or less among the armies of Israel. 
This is owing in part to human infirmity ; but 
much more perhaps to human depravity. 

It is not in place here to enter fully into the 
circumstances which allow, and in some cases 
even oblige, good men to engage in the polem- 
ics of religion. None can doubt that such oc- 



THE SPIRIT OF COINTROVERSY, ETC. 143 

casioiis do exist ; and that Christians would 
betray their high trust if they were to suffer in 
silence Divine truth to be impugned, and souls 
to be endangered by its perversion. But w^ith 
this concession, how evident is it, that contro- 
versy is entered upon, in many cases, where 
neither the amount of difference, nor the causes 
of provocation are sufficient to justify it ! All 
the sad consequences on the peace of Chris- 
tians, and in prejudicing religion in the eyes of 
the world are incurred, when the diversity of 
belief is so unimportant as, by the judgment of 
both parties, invalidates not the claim of either 
to true piety. If all such cases were at once 
withdrawn from the field of conflict, and those 
left which regard only fundamental principles, 
what a sudden calm would succeed the now 
agitated and tempestuous scene ! How soon 
would the ark settle down upon its resting place ; 
the waters abate ; and th^ bow of promise 
gladden our eyes ! 

If this spirit of controversy could be confined 
to the mettlesome leaders in the affray, it would 



144 THE SPIRIT OP OONTROVEUSY 

save piety from a vast amount of injury. But 
when the spirit of strife and contention is made 
to pervade large sections of the church ; and 
the humble Christian, even in his retirement, is 
compelled to hear and to respond to the start- 
ling notes of the war-trumpet ; to buckle on his 
armor, and rush to the conflict ; God's Israel 
becomes like a vast military encampment, where 
nothing is to be heard but the preparation-notes 
of battle, or the clangor of resounding arms. 

Now, as the deadliest strife among nations 
often derives its origin from slight causes, so 
this ecclesiastical warfare is waged many times 
for the settlement of points, where the actual 
difference is the most difficult point of all to be 
ascertained. The fierceness of the struggle, 
however, instead of being, as one would sup- 
pose, proportioned to the magnitude of the er- 
rors, is often greater as the points of difference 
diminish. How does piety languish, and how 
do her joys fade away before this collision of 
excited minds ; in which, instead of provoking 
one another " to love and to good works," the 



OPPOSED TO THE PROGRESS OF PIETY. 145 

main effort appears to be, to enlist the great- 
est number of suffrages to a party, and to 
wield the mightiest influence. The avenues of 
Zion, like the open gates of Janus, are ringing 
with the tramp of combatants, or echoing to 
the shouts of victory. Party leaders seem re- 
solved that no Christian shall stand neutral in 
any given strife ; and that, be the points at 
issue more or less important, each one must 
declare openly for or against the party. They 
take their stand on the high-places, hke Saul 
at Gibeah, and hewing their sacrifice in pieces, 
send them abroad over the land, declaring that 
" so shall it be done unto'* the man, who rallies 
not under their standard. 

The Christian who is enabled to stand aloof 
from this warfare is privileged indeed. It is 
wholly adverse to the growth of piety ; — and 
if participated in, to any considerable extent, 
must inevitably rob the soul of its fehcity. 
Who can enumerate the topics of religious 
strife which, in various assemblies, and through 
various publications, are now thrust upon the at- 
13 



146 THE SPIRIT OF CONTROVERSY 

tention of the church. How many combina- 
tions — "pro and anti^^ — are formed with a view 
to coerce, almost, the Christian into their ranks ! 
What various conflicting claims are presented 
among members of the same communion ! The 
excitement which all this produces cannot be 
friendly to the development of spiritual religion. 
It cannot promote "the peaceable fruits of 
righteousness ;" except on the principle that 
God may overrule one of the greatest afflic- 
tions of our Zion to the furtherance of her joy. 
;> There is nothing in our religion which tends 
to produce this spirit of contention. It is paci- 
fic in its design, and in its commands. The 
soul that has felt its influence is full of love to 
all mankind. It takes its tone from Him w^ho 
came " not to destroy men's lives, but to save 
them." 

What a variety of beautiful texts might be 
cited, to show how opposite to this contentious 
spirit is the whole tenor of the gospel ! "A 
new commandment I give unto you, That ye 
love one another." " Love worketh no ill to 



OPPOSED TO THE PROGRESS OP PIETY. 147 

his neighbor : therefore love is the fulfilling of 
the law." " Be kindly affectioned one to an- 
other with brotherly love ; in honor preferring 
one another." " Be pitiful, be courteous." 
" The servant of the Lord must not strive ; but 
be gentle unto all men." " While one saith, 
I am of Paul ; and another, I am of Apollos, 
are ye not carnal?" "Be perfect, be of one 
mind ; live in peace." " Charity is the bond 
of perfectness." "Charity suffereth long, and 
is kind. Charity is not easily provoked ; bear- 
eth all things, hopeth all things, endureth all 
things." " And now abideth faith, hope, chari- 
ty, these three ; but the greatest of these is 
charity.^^ 

In view of the manifest injury to the soul 
which the spirit of religious controversy inflicts 
and with these passages of Scripture before us, 
how can we expect to retain our Christian 
peace and joy whilst mingling in the conflict ? 

But it may be replied, " Truth must be 
maintained ; and it is necessary that some in- 
dividuals should consent, even against their 



148 THE SPIRIT OF CONTROVERSY 

wish, to stand forth as her champions." This 
has already been conceded ; but, with the con- 
cession, it is still lamentably true, that the pre- 
sent times are fearfully rife with causes of con- 
tention, which, in themselves comparatively 
unimportant, are magnijfied to that degree, that 
the struggle is as heated and violent, as if the 
very ark of God was threatened with annihila- 
tion. This spirit is breathed into the church, 
all over the land, and operates, like the passage 
of a tornado, to uproot and desolate the ver- 
dant beauties of Zion ; or, if this figure be too 
strong, we will call it a kind of malaria, which 
insinuating itself into every section of the 
church, causes cold shiverings and feeble pul- 
ses in men who were wont to rejoice in the 
full vigor of health. Such has been its effect 
in our land, and piety has greatly declined in 
her attractiveness, and been deprived of much 
of her influence ; whilst a scoffing world has 
felt at liberty to cavil at our faith, and to ques- 
tion the sincerity of our professions. Piety has 
been blamed for that which she has all the 



OPPOSED TO THE PROGRESS OF PIETY. 149 

while been aiming to destroy, viz., a spirit of 
unholy contention ; and it becomes true Chris- 
tians to rescue her from these aspersions, by 
exemplifying the charity which she recom- 
mends. 



13* 



CHAPTER XXI. 

CIRCUMSTANCES FAVORABLE TO THE PROMO- 
TION OF PIOUS JOY. 

It will be s^euy from th« foregoing pages, that 
the charge which is sometimes preferred against 
religion, is wholly without foundation ; that if a 
cloud rest upon a Christianas brow, or any 
gloom pervade his soul^ it is not piety that pro- 
duces it ; but it comes, in most instances, from 
the obstructions alluded to, which prevent 
piety from exerting its legitimate influence. 

Only such hinderances have l^en noticed as 
are prominent in our day, and peculiar, some- 
what, to our age and country. If Christians 
will avoid these; and give to piety an unob- 
structed sway over the soul, she will doubtless 
soon produce those lovely fruits, which in the 
Scriptures are ascribed to her influence. " The 
fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, long-suffer- 
ing, gentleness, goodness, faith, meekness, tern- 



CIRCUMSTANCES FAVORABLE, ETC. 151 

perance." For illustration on this point, we 
may advert again to the analogy of nature. 
When it is intended to cultivate the fruits of the 
earth, or to call forth the flow^ers and foliage 
which are to adorn it, the first important step is 
to remove the obstructions, and place the de- 
sired vegetation in circumstances favorable for 
its growth. The nature of the soil is carefully 
attended to. The exposedness of the plant to 
boisterous w^inds or nipping frosts is considered. 
Every precautionary measure is adopted to 
prop or to bind it ; to lay it open to the sun, or 
to shield it from a too intense action of his rays. 
It cannot be reasonably expected that the plant 
will thrive and put on its lovely dress, without 
all this care and culture. If the soil is over- 
grown with weeds and obstructed by stones ; 
or if this delicate plant is left to be beaten by 
the winds, or smitten by the sun-beam, how can 
we look for the natural and proper develope- 
ment of its beauties ! 

Nor is it otherwise with the fruits of the 
Spirit. The soul that is le(t exposed to every 



152 CIRCUMSTANCES FAVORABLE TO 

adverse influence, will present a moral condi- 
tion analogous to the neglected plant. The 
chilling winds will invade it. The blighting 
frosts will silently wither it ; and if it still retain 
some appearance of life, it will be so stinted 
in its growth, and so barren in its aspect, as to 
excite a melancholy feeling in the beholder. 
On the other hand, if " God's husbandry" is 
properly cultivated, and the tender plants are 
shielded from unfriendly influences ; if the cul- 
ture is in any degree proportioned to the im- 
portance and excellency of the expected fruit, 
there will not be a more attractive sight in the 
universe than these "trees of righteousness," 
flourishing with well-watered roots and unwith- 
ering leaves. 

If God has given us facilities in the one field, 
so has He in the other ; and if in the one case 
the reward is proportioned to the care and 
labor, it is no less certain and generous in the 
other. 

In the productions of earth, we have the rain 
and the dew, the light and the shade, the heat 



THE PROMOTION OF PIOUS JOY. 153 

and the cold, all operating in such due propor- 
tion on the soil as to warm into life and call forth 
into beautiful forms, that which is the object of 
our care. And is it otherwise with the soul, 
whose graces are to be developed under a faith- 
ful spiritual culture ? Has not God promised, 
with equal explicitness, " Whatsoever a man 
soweth, that shall he also reap ?" Has He not 
declared, that, " as the rain cometh down from 
Heaven, and returneth not thither, but watereth 
the earth, and makethit bring forth, that it may 
give seed to the sower, and bread to the eater ; 
so shall His word be that goeth forth out of 
His mouth ?" As certainly as the dew distils 
on the flower, and the sun-beam falls upon and 
enlivens it, so surely will God give His Spirit to 
refresh, and the light of His countenance to 
cheer that soul, " who diligently seeketh Him." 
To this established connexion between the 
use of means and the certain production of pious 
fruits, we must add the very extraordinary fa- 
cilities for the full developement of the Chris- 



154 CIRCUMSTANCES FAVORABLE TO 

tian graces, which are found in our highly favor- 
ed land. 

If the Christian does not daily advance in his 
upward path, it will not be for the want of 
means and appliances. If any obscurity rest 
upon his soul, it will not be owing to a diminu- 
tion of light in the moral atmosphere. " The 
Sun of righteousness has arisen upon us with 
healing in His wings." There is a flood-tide of 
salvation poured down upon us. No people on 
earth are more richly endowed in this respect. 
The manna falls upon us daily, and in great 
abundance. The pillar of cloud is before us by 
day, and the pillar of fire by night. The silver 
trumpet of the Levites is ringing continually in 
our ears ; and the cleft rock is pouring out at 
our feet the waters of life. Is there any reason 
why we should not joyfully march on our 
way? 

To constitute the happy Christian, two de- 
partments of labor must be occupied. The one 
respects the duties which we owe to ourselves, 



THE PROMOTION OF PIOUS JOY. 155 

and embraces the exercises of the closet, such as 
prayer — self-examination — and the study of the 
Scriptures. These are of primary importance ; 
and it is out of the question to expect pious 
joy where they are neglected or discharged in 
a superficial manner.* But scarcely less impor- 
tant — especially in forming the character of the 
happy Christian — is the department of labor 
which respects the good of others ; which aims 
to carry out our influence upon all whom it is 
possible to reach and to bless. The spirit of the 
gospel is not evinced, nor its joys experienced, 
without a faithful occupation of our talents, and 
a conformity, by self-denying labors, to Him 
'^ who went about doing good." " To do good 
unto all men as we have opportunity," is the 
grand rule ; estimating the pressure of the ob- 
ligation according to the nature of the good, and 
the ability and opportunity to bestow it. Now 
the Christian, who is faithful in the one depart- 



* These duties have been recommended and illustrated 
in a former work — the *' Advice to a Young Christian," 



156 CIRCUMSTANCES FAVORABLE TO 

ment, will be very likely to be faithful in the 
other. He who lives near the private altar, 
and gathers there his motives, and feeds there 
his zeal, will be ready to embrace every open- 
ing to be useful, which the providence of God 
shall disclose. He will not be " standing all 
the day idle," and crying, with folded hands, 
" No man hath hired me." 

It has pleased Providence to place before 
His church in our day facilities for doing good, 
and for extending the cause of truth and 
righteousness, more numerous and in greater 
variety than perhaps were ever known before. 
There is hence no apology for indolence or in- 
activity. Not one in the spiritual community 
can say, " There is nothing for me to do." The 
work is graduated to the ability of every saint, 
not excepting the most indigent. Each may, if 
he think proper, select that department of be- 
nevolence which is best suited to his circum- 
stances. Such being the case, it is evident that 
no pious person can be happy if he withhold 
good from him that needeth, when God has put 



THE PROMOTION OF PIOUS JOY. 157 

it in his power to do this good ; for, " to him 
that knoweth to do good, and doeth it not, to 
him it is sin." 



14 



CHAPTER XXII, 

THE USEFUL CHRISTIAN HAPPY, 

It is not intended to prescribe to the reader 
the ways or methods which it is his particular 
duty to adoptj in order to exert a proper Chris- 
tian influence upon others ; but rather to ex- 
hibit the necessity of uniting good works with 
devotional habits. 

This union is indispensable, we maintain, to a 
full and scriptural developement of true piety. 
Without it we cannot fulfil the commands of 
God, nor tread in the footsteps of our Re- 
deemer. " To do good, and to communicate, 
forget not ; for with such sacrifices God is well 
pleased." It is a settled principle, therefore, 
that no Christian can be happy who is not use- 
ful ; indeed it would admit of a question, wheth- 
er any soul can be the subject of renewing 
grace, who is not, in some way, engaged in di- 



THE USEFUL CHRISTIAN HAPPY. 150 

red acts of benevolence. Yet it must be con- 
fessed, that many professors seem to find some 
apology for inaction in all that respects self- 
denying efforts to extend the influence of piety. 
The facilities for putting forth this influence 
have been alluded to, and ought to be well con- 
sidered, by all v^ho have enlisted " as good sol- 
diers of Jesus Christ." It is needless to enu- 
merate them, since they are familiar to alL 
They come to our very doors, and tender them- 
selves to our acceptance. We can do good by 
our money, by our labor, by our conversation, 
and by our prayers. We can do good in the 
family, in the neighborhood, in the church, and 
throughout the v^orld. Numerous channels are 
opened in the providence of God, through 
vs^hich we can carry out Christian influence, 
not only over our own land, but to the most 
distant and degraded spot on earth. Our char- 
ities can take wing, and light upon the very 
place where we think them most needed. We 
may find the objects of our benevolent regard 
already arranged and classified, so that we have 



160 THE USEFUL CHRISTIAN HAPPY. 

only to select where, and upon whom, that be- 
nevolence shall flow, and the work may com- 
mence. With such opportunities of influence, 
it is clear that none but he who avails himself 
of some of them, and endeavors to acquire and 
sustain the character of a faithful servant, can 
be a happy Christian. God has done all this, 
to invite us to become co-workers with Himself 
in accomplishing the grand designs of His mercy. 
If we hold back; or if we leave the work to 
others, whilst, under the influence of some 
futile apology, we seek the things of earth, it 
is a very dark sign against us ; and we may 
well tremble under the apprehension of being 
addressed at last as " wicked and slothful 
servants." 

On this subject, however, there is room for 
many modifications of personal duty and re- 
sponsibility. Christians are placed in very dif- 
ferent circumstances as to their means of use- 
fulness, and their opportunities for doing good. 
All these circumstances the eye of Heaven no- 
tices and considers. Some are poor ; and their 



TttE USEFUL CHRISTIAN MAPl'Y. IGl 

responsibilities are modified by their lowly con- 
dition. In them we look for the virtues of in- 
dustry, frugality, and temperance ; but cannot 
expect them to give their time or their money — 
except as they consider it a privilege to contri- 
bute their mite, which it undoubtedly is even to 
the poorest. But such can pray ; can meekly 
reprove vice ; can let the light of their example 
— not the less attractive for their poverty — 
shine upon their ungodly neighbors. 

Some are mothers — deeply responsible and 
highly useful condition — with young immortals 
cast upon their care, whose moral training no 
circumstances, save those of dire necessity, 
should tempt them to neglect. There is no 
province on earth more important than this. 
We will excuse the Christian mother — under 
the pressure of maternal responsibility — from 
many if not all the conspicuous charities of the 
day. If she is, under God, moulding the char- 
acter of her offspring, in order to qualify them 
for life's duties, and for Heaven's eternal joys, 
we will say to her, " Go on, and God be with 
14* 



162 THE USEFUL CHRISTIAN HAPPY. 

you ; and although some may stand forth more 
in the sun-light of observation, whilst you are 
laboring in the shade, the end will prove that 
your vocation was at least as important as 
theirs." 

The invalid and the aged are exempted, by 
the providence of God, from some labors ; but 
are under obligation to perform others, of which 
even their circumstances may admit. The 
great and all-important point is, to have the 
spirit of doing good ; an eye that watches for 
opportunities, and a hand ready to seize on them 
as they are unfolded. With this spirit in exer- 
cise, no Christian will be at a loss for occasions 
to let his light shine, nor for subjects on which 
to expend benevolent action. 

We are not opposed to a division of labor ; 
but we do object to the method pursued by 
some Christians, of selecting a favorite depart- 
ment of benevolence, and aiming to carry it 
forward under the idea of its paramount claims. 
Such a course can seldom be pursued without 
prejudice to some other good cause : and if 



THE USEFUL CHRISTIAN HAPPY. 163 

Others, who prefer a different department, adopt 
the same course, the whole subject of pubhc 
charities is placed before the world in a preju- 
diced light. 

A Christian's usefulness is not always in pro-^ 
portion to the space he fills in the public eye ; 
nor to the amount of discursive influence which 
he may be able to cast abroad over the wide 
field of exertion. Some men may deem it their 
duty to sow the seed by all waters. With na- 
tive ardor of temperament, and with a zeal^ 
kindled we trust by a coal from Heaven's altar,, 
they may take wing and visit a thousand places, 
and make their influence felt over a boundless 
space. The seed which they scatter may, in 
some instances, take root ; but the real amount 
of good accompUshed in such cases cannot be 
ascertained. Others may select for themselves 
a limited spot in the vineyard, and address their 
energies, in humble dependence on God, to its 
cultivation. In instances of this description, 
the work is with less public observation ; but 
the amount of actual good accompHshed, may 



164 THE USEFUL CHRISTIAN HAPPY. 

exceed that of the more brilliant and discursive 
laborer. It has this advantage also, that the 
fruits are visible ; and the moral change, as in 
the case of a barren spot in nature reclaimed 
to fertility, is the more gratifying from the re- 
collection of its former disheartening appear- 
ance. 

Without, then, assigning to a Christian the 
peculiar field which he shall cultivate, we would 
simply urge him to be useful in the circum- 
stances in which God has placed him ; to shrink 
from no labor which Providence seems to im- 
pose, nor to anticipate happiness except in the 
diligent discharge of all his duties. " Whatso- 
ever thy hand findeth to do, do it with thy 
might ; for there is no work, nor device, nor 
knowledge, nor wisdom, in the grave, whither 
thou goest." 



CHAPTER XXIII, 

THE JOY OF CONTENTMENT* 

" Godliness with contentment," says SU 
Paul, " is great gain." It would seem from this 
declaration as if godliness was not always ac- 
companied by contentment. There can be 
no doubt, however, that the design and ten- 
dency of true piety is to promote a contented 
spirit ; and where this effect does not take 
place, we are obliged to suppose something pe- 
culiar in the disposition of the individual to 
thwart its influence. 

Instances might be cited where the evidence 
of piety is not wanting, and yet v^ith such con- 
stitutional peculiarities as to hinder its action in 
a given direction. There is an " easily beset- 
ting sin," which piety must combat for a great 
length of time ere it be brought into habitual 
subjection. How intimate the connexion is 



166 THE JOY OF CONTENTMENT. 

between this " besetting sin" and the physical 
weaknesses of the individual, it is not easy to 
say ; but there is reason to believe, that some 
sins acquire power from this connexion. There 
are also hereditary infirmities, and the secret 
influence of disease, which operate upon cer- 
tain minds, and counteract the tendency of re- 
ligion to soothe and to cheer them. 

How diversified are the natural dispositions 
of men ! Some are impetuous and ardent ; and 
others are sluggish in their affections and feel- 
ings. Some are restless in whatsoever situation 
they may be ; and others, when once in a par- 
ticular place or calling, seem never to wish for 
any change. Now when piety takes effect on 
these varying dispositions, it modifies, but does 
not completely change them. The ardent dis- 
position will evince itself in religion, as it did 
before in earthly pleasures ; and the man of a 
dull, lethargic spirit, will be likely to move on 
with timid pace in the new path which he has 
begun to travel. The restless temper, ever 
seeking some change, will find more difficulty 



THE JOY OF CONTENTMENT. 167 

in cultivating the grace of contentment, even 
after embracing a life of piety, than the even- 
tempered man, whose very nature disinclines 
him to change. 

It is clear also, that we cannot estimate truly 
the strength of piety, from a comparison of in- 
dividuals on a given point. The two cases al- 
luded to afford an illustration of this. In the 
one case, contentment would argue a higher 
degree of piety ; because strong constitutional 
tendencies are to be overcome. In the other, 
it would furnish less decisive evidence of piety, 
inasmuch as the constitutional tendencies rather 
favor, than oppose the exercise of this virtue. 
In this latter case, godliness is superadded as 
it were to contentment, and there is even under 
these circumstances " great gain," The life of 
such an individual flows on in a noiseless cur- 
rent, and is on the whole tranquil and happy. 
But in the former example, if to godliness the 
individual can add contentment, it is a still 
greater gain ; for it is the victory of religious 
principle over powerful constitutional impedi- 



168 THE JOY OF CONTENTMENT. 

ments ; and the joys of the triumph are added 
to the peaceful virtue, which has been earned 
after a hard fought battle. 

If we discover our besetting sin, it is one im- 
portant point gained ; and our duty is then 
plainly before us, viz., by God's grace to enter 
the lists against it. 

How many Christians are uneasy and rest- 
less under the circumstances in which Provi- 
dence has placed them ! If they have godli- 
ness, it is manifestly not accompanied as habit- 
ually as it ought to be by contentment. It need 
not be said that pious joy is inseparable from a 
contented frame of mind ; nor that, where the 
soul is dissatisfied with its allotment in life, there 
is envy and even secret murmuring. 

On no point perhaps are Christians more 
frequently tempted than on this. They see 
other men pursuing, with unobstructed and suc- 
cessful career, the wealth and the honors of the 
world. They look upon their outward estate, 
and wonder why Providence should have made 
such a diiference ; not remembering that this 



THE JOY OP CONTENTMENT. 169 

very difference may be in their favor, and that 
whilst the worldling is receiving his good things 
in this life, God is preparing something better 
for the Christian. Even the Psalmist was al- 
most ready to call in question the rectitude of 
the Divine government, "when he saw the 
prosperity of the wicked." But his " envy at 
the foolish" vanished quickly, when he " went 
into the sanctuary of God." There he " saw 
their end." He saw the " slippery places" of 
power and wealth without godliness ; and he 
condemned himself for being " ignorant" on a 
point so plain. 

It has pleased God, for the good of his peo- 
pie, and in love to their souls, to appoint to most 
of them a lowly lot in life. He has thus ex- 
empted them from " the deceitfulness of riches," 
and from many of the corroding cares of the 
world. Full scope is thus given for the devel- 
opement of their piety ; and a comparatively 
unobstructed course is laid open to them to run 
their Christian race. Shall any complain at 
this ; or sigh to think that God has not hedged 
15 



170 THE JOY OF CONTENTMENT. 

up their way to Heaven by the conflicts of am- 
bition, or the oppressive anxiety w^hich is con- 
nected with golden stores? Only let them 
fully understand their favorable position in life 
and they will readily perceive, that, if piety is 
to be the fountain of their felicity, their situa- 
tion is much the most favorable for reaUzing its 
joys. In view of it one is ready to exclaim, in 
the language of Virgil depicting the happy state 
of the humble swain ; and which is even more 
applicable to humble and moderately endowed 
Christians, " O fortunatos nimium, sua si bona 
norint."^ Happy indeed would they be, if they 
could appreciate the good which God has con- 
nected with their state, and learn that Divine 
lesson, which Paul had learned, " in whatso- 
ever situation he was, therewith to be content." 
The state of mind which we are recom- 
mending, is not opposed to lawful exertion, put 
forth in order to better our outward condition. 



* Thrice happy they, who appreciate the^blessings of 
their lot. 



THE JOY OF CONTENTMENT. 171 

Christianity in no instance paralyzes the springs 
of activity and honorable enterprise. Nor does 
contentment imply the duty of remaining in an 
inferior station, when Providence plainly says, 
" Go up higher." A Christian may make this 
advance without any discontentment with his 
former, and perhaps inferior, position. If God 
has appointed to him tbo humblest occupation, 
or the most obscure post of labor, he is bound 
to be satisfied, and on the ground that it is God's 
appointment ; but he is not compelled to remain 
in it when the same sovereign Hand opens be- 
fore him another and a wider field of influence. 

Contentment is opposed to restlessness in a 
given situation, accompanied by so strong a 
wish for a better, as disqualifies the soul in a 
great measure for the discharge of its present 
obligations. This restlessness is utterly opposed 
to true peace of mind. It is a struggle against 
the manifest will of Heaven. No Christian 
can be happy in the indulgence of such a feel- 
ing. 

The joy of contentment, is a tranquil and 



172 THE JOY OF CONTENTMENT. 

happy emotion. It enables the soul to sit un- 
disturbed amid the fluctuations of this change- 
ful scene. It has a smile as bright in the cloudy 
as in the clear day ; and can sing its grateful 
song as well in a lowly, as in a lofty situation. 
The Christian surely need not deprive himself 
of this joy. What to him should be the ephe- 
meral distinctions of earthy when he is expect- 
ing, after a few revolving suns, to wear a crown 
brighter than the jeweled toy that rests upon 
an earthly brow ; and to inherit a kingdom 
richer in its resources than all the kingdoms of 
the world ! 



CHAPTER XXIV. 

SUBMISSION. 

Does piety make her disciples only contented 1 
Is this the extent of her triumphs ? Does she 
not make them submissive and resigned, under 
the deepest afflictions of life ? Her power to 
counteract the evils of this fallen state, appears 
most conspicuous amid the darkest scenes which 
Providence gathers around her path. Then 
does she come to illustrate that promise 
which — in view of every possible gradation of 
mortal suffering —declares, "As thy days, so 
shall thy strength be." 

There are but few Christians who live, for 
any length of time, without some trials ; so few 
indeed as only to form rare exceptions to that 
general inheritance of tribulation, which our 
Lord decreed should be the portion of his fol- 
lowers. " In the world ye shall have tribula- 
15* 



174 SUBMISSION. 

tion." These afflictions are various in kind and 
in degree. In particular cases, they are wholly 
of a spiritual kind, and have reference to the 
inward conflicts of the soul. Sometimes this 
species of suffering is the most intense and in- 
supportable which can be conceived. But 
more generally they have reference to the 
peculiar outward state, temporal or social, in 
which God places His children, with a view to 
the cultivation of the passive virtues, such as 
gentleness, patience, and submission. Poverty, 
and persecution ; disappointed earthly expec- 
tations ; alienated friendship ; sickness and 
bereavement ; are among the principal bur- 
dens which are laid upon the soul and body, 
to serve as the occasion of eliciting the lovely 
grace of submission. The Christian's perfec- 
tion ; that is, the completeness of his character, 
cannot be attained without this suffering in 
some form ; nor without its effect in the devel- 
opement of patience and submission. How else 
could he " fill up that which is behind of the 
afflictions of Christ ?" Where else, or under 



SUBMISSION. 175 

what other circumstances could he know the 
" fellowship of Christ's sufferings ?" Nature 
we know shrinks from the ordeal. The fiery 
furnace is intimidating, and we dread to enter 
it even though we have the assurance that we 
shall come forth unharmed — yea, even like 
gold purified and brightened by the process. 
But an invisible hand will arrange all these 
circumstances of trial, and introduce us to them 
in such a way, as to give them their happiest 
eft'ect upon the soul. God will adjust the bur- 
den to the back, and give the staff of His pro- 
mise, and enable us to hold on our way, even 
over a dark and rugged path. 

Let us contemplate the sufferer. There is 
a man who has labored hard and long to ac- 
quire the means of temporal support ; but one 
adverse blast after another has swept away his 
property, until he begins to look around upon 
his loved ones, with actual solicitude. Another 
glance at life's moving panorama shows us the 
lone widow w^ith her orphans at her knee, 
looking up into her anxious and sorrow-shroud- 



176 SUBMISSION. 

ed face, to ask why that tear is there ! Hei-^e 
is one nailed to the sick couch, and week after 
week inquiring for some slight indication of a 
favorable change. The physician's eye speaks 
no encouragement. Another is bending over 
the short-breathing child, and kissing its burn- 
ing brow. It is her earthly all. A husband 
stands petrified over the cold remains of her 
whom he loved in youth. O death, thou hast 
dipped thine arrows in the deadliest venom I 
Yonder sits one leaning mournfully forward 
and brooding over violated vows. Alas, cre- 
dulous heart ! Those vows were but the im- 
pulse of passion, whose fiame was kindled at no 
pure altar. The domestic circle — that promis- 
ed elysium — is not always the heaven that was 
anticipated. The friends who, in sun-shine, 
wore such complacent smiles, can pass on with 
averted eye, now that life wears a dreary as- 
pect. How diversified and deep are the afflic- 
tions which meet us in our passage through 
this vale of tears ! 

But there is one thing, and one only^ which 



SUBMISSION. 177 

can make the soul the better for them. It is 
true piety ;—3,nd, where this is in exercise, 
they become the secret agents, under God, 
of ripening the sufferer for the skies. When 
the soul submits to the dispensation with true 
Christian resignation, it can be even " joyful in 
tribulation." By this we mean, that the conso- 
lations may so preponderate, as to give a deci- 
ded prominence to the peaceful and happy feel- 
ings, over that anguish which nature must ever 
feel, when the stream of her earthly pleasures 
is interrupted. Hence we often find the good 
man sitting calm amidst circumstances calcula- 
ted to work up a tempest in the bosom. He 
has -his eye not simply on the affliction, but on 
the Hand that has caused it ; and he experien- 
ces along with the wound the healing balm 
which faith applies to it. 

See then the advantage which piety gives in 
a world like ours, where almost every avenue 
we tread, leads to some disappointment or 
deep affliction. When the shaft strikes the 
man of the world, what has he wherewith to 



178 SUBMISSION. 

medicate the rankling wound ? Whilst exempt 
from personal suffering, and whilst his sources 
of happiness are left open to him, he can wear 
as cheerful a countenance as the Christian . 
but invade the paradise of his joys, cut down 
his loved ones, and let the elements consume 
his earthly substance. Bid messenger after 
messenger — as in the case of Job — fly to in- 
form him of successive disasters ; and at length 
touch his own body, and " make its beauty to 
consume away like a moth." Where is his 
joy now ; or what staflT has he now to lean 
upon ? No mingling resignation is there to 
calm his troubled breast, and no heart-felt sub- 
mission to the Divine will, in view of God's 
righteous dealings. The mind must pore upon 
the dark picture, unrelieved by even a ray from 
the opening heavens. 

Now the Christian is authorized, and even 
commanded to " rejoice in the Lord always ;" 
to "glory in tribulations ; knowing that tribula- 
tion worketh patience ; and patience, experi- 
ence ; and experience, hope : juid hope mak- 



SUBMISSION. 179 

etli not ashamed, because the love of God is 
shed abroad in the heart." 

On what a slender foundation rests the 
worldling's joy ! It is like the plant which 
springs from the stony ground. It seems for 
a season to shoot forth with rank luxuriance ; 
but it has no depth of soil. Its roots are insuf- 
ficient to support it. Whilst all is calm it may 
cast forth its shoots, and even put on some ap- 
pearances of beauty ; but when the storm rises 
and mingling elements are invading it, how 
fares it then ? "I have seen the wicked in 
great power, and spreading himself like a 
green bay-tree. Yet he passed away, and lo, 
he was not : yea, I sought him, but he could 
not be found." 

How permanent is the basis of a Christian's 
joy ! Its roots are strongly imbedded like the 
cedar of Lebanon. No wind that blows can 
battle it down. The very tempest that beats 
upon it only adds to its stability, and rivets it 
more firmly to its foundation. This joy grows 
not on earth, nor depends for its aliment on tha 



180 SUBMISSION, 

smiles which earth can bestow. It is planted 
in heaven, and is watered by that stream which 
makes glad the city of God. How then can 
it wither ? How can the failing sources of this 
world endanger the extinction of that which 
blooms on the eternal hills ! Why need the 
Christian despond, even when all else is gone, 
if this is left ? Why may he not smile amid the 
wreck of his earthly hopes, if he can look up 
and claim God as his portion, and Heaven as 
his eternal home ! 



CHAPTER XXV. 

JOY IN DEATH. 

Christian submission extends to all the dark 
and trying dispensations of the present state. 
It includes even the stroke of death. It says 
with the last expiring breath, " Thy will be 
done." The triumph is the greater, because 
the approach of the destroyer is distinctly con- 
templated, and the consequences of death, both 
to the prepared and unprepared, are vividly be- 
fore the mind. 

The faith of the Christian invests the hour of 
dissolution with a solemnity, which respects 
not merely all that is to be left behind ; nor all 
that is repulsive in the cold aspect of death ; 
but what is to be experienced when the soul 
is disengaged from the body, and goes to 
Heaven's tribunal. The retributions of eternity 
are full in view. The dying saint as fully be- 
16 



182 JOY IN DEATH. 

lieves in a hell to which the wicked will be 
driven, as he believes in a Heaven to which the 
righteous will be welcomed. He has no more 
doubt that he whobelieveth Tio^willbe damned, 
than he has, that he who helieveth will be saved. 
His views on this great doctrine of eternal ret- 
ributions are clear and distinct; and he ap- 
proaches the crisis under their full influence. 
He has also the conviction, stronger now than 
ever before, that no native traits of amiable- 
ness, nor self-originated virtues can afford him 
the least hope of acceptance before God, He 
sees, in the retrospect, that these supposed vir- 
tues are deficient in motive, and they vanish 
before the accumulated sins which have at- 
tended him at every step of his mortal journey. 
What then gives him peace in death ; or how 
can he expect to triumph in that fearful hour ? 
" The sting of death is sin; and the strength of 
sin is the law. But thanks be to God which 
giveth us the victory through our Lord Jesus 
ChrisV^ What gives poignancy to death's 
arrow is sin ; and what makes this sin so potent 



JOY IN DEATH. 183 

to destroy, is the violated law ; but in the case 
of the believer, " the blood of Jesus Christ 
cleanseth him from all sin ;" and this same Sa- 
vior " is the end of the law for righteousness 
to evei:y one that belie veth." Leaning, then, 
wholly on the "arm of his beloved," the Chris- 
tian may come to this fearful point without 
terror or even apprehension. " Who shall sepa- 
rate him from the love of God ?" Shall "death?" 
" Who is he that condemneth ? It is Christ 
that died, yea, rather, that is risen again, who 
is even at the right hand of God, who also 
maketh intercession for us." Here we have the 
strong foundation on which the dying saint re- 
poses. It is not in "works of righteousness 
which he has done ;" but solely in the " right- 
eousness of Christ, imputed to him, and receiv- 
ed by faith alone." This is the rock on which 
he rests as the dark flood rises around him. 
When the body is a wreck, and is falling away 
under the successive strokes of death's billows, 
to this rock of salvation does the soul cling until 

16* 



184 JOY IN DEATH. 

the command is given that moors it safe on Ca- 
naan's happy shores. 

Many do not contemplate death at all until 
they are forced into the narrow pass ; and then 
all is wild amazement or downright insensibili- 
ty. The hopes of recovery occupy the mind 
until, by the action of the disease, it is so far in- 
capacitated for reflection, as to entertain no dis- 
tinct notions of death, or of its consequences. 
In such cases, a willingness to die may be mis- 
taken for Christian resignation ; and the stupid- 
ity which precedes death is misnamed submis- 
sion. 

But piety does more than make the soul xviU 
ling to go, it often begets an intense longing 
*' to depart, and to be with Christ, which is far 
better." Every thing that relates to the closing- 
scene is well adapted to give the impression of 
its power to sustain, and to comfort the soul. 
" Come," said Addison to a young nobleman, 
" and see how a Christian can die." And, says 
Dr. Young, 



JOY IN DEATH. 185 

'' The chamber where the good man meets his fate 
Is privileged beyond the common walk 
Of virtuous life, quite in the verge of Heaven ! 
His comforters he comforts; great in ruin. 
With unreluctant grandeur, gives, not yields, 
His soul sublime." 

" Sweet Peace, and heavenly Hope, and humble Joy, 
Divinely beam on his exalted soul ; 
Destruction gild, and crown him for the skies, 
With incommunicable lustre bright." 

The triumph of piety in the last hour, is more 
evident in the positive desire to go, than in the 
mere willingness to die. As Dr. Young has 
beautifully expressed it, the Christian ''gives, 
not yields, his soul sublime." When a mere 
worldling is brought to the bed of death, there 
may be a constitutional hardihood which sus- 
tains the mind in some degree of equanimity ; 
or there may be in the action of the disorder 
such intense bodily sufferings as to extort the 
w^ish, that God would put an end to them even 
by death. But is there any triumph here ; or 
is there in this case any desire to depart found- 
ed on the bright visions of faith ? No, alas ! 
all is forced submission; and the wish to die 
16** 



186 JOY IN DEATH. 

is grounded simply on the insupportable suffer- 
ing which is laid upon the body. 

How different are the Christian's emotions 
in death ! There is something of positive good 
beyond the grave which engages his thoughts, 
and awakens the desire to be gone. It is a 
view of the New-Jerusalem — the soul's happy 
home — that kindles in the dying eye that 
almost supernatural light, and infuses into the 
spirit such a subhme composure as it adjusts 
itself for its glorious flight. Who but the Chris- 
tian has ever been found longing to depart ? 
Others may submit to this necessity ; but he 
rejoices in the hour of liberation. Others may 
be willing to die, because they have nothing to 
live for ; or because they prefer death — regard- 
less of its awful consequences — to anguish so 
insupportable ; but the Christian's views are of 
a sublimer cast. He has the air of a conquer- 
or. He often meets the last enemy with alac- 
rity, and says, with lips almost cold in death, 
" Thanks be unto God which givctii me the 
victory through ^ur Lord Jesus Christ." 



JOV IN DEATH. 187 

Whatever disadvantages religion may be sup- 
posed to have in health, or in seasons of w^orld- 
ly prosperity, her claims must be admitted 
when the health is broken, and that world of 
vanities is receding on the dying eye. But if 
her blessings are set at nought in health, and 
when their adoption in view of rival claims 
would prove the soul's decided preference and 
its well-founded hope ; if then they are despis- 
ed, and worldly pleasure is pursued, there is 
little probability she will hear the dying sinner's 
cry, and place under his sinking soul her eter- 
nal arms. " If ye would die the death, live ye 
the life of the'righteous." You cannot travel in a 
different road and reach the same glorious end. 

But some may say, that whilst this trium- 
phant death is occasionally witnessed, there 
are many exceptions, and that Christians do 
not always pass the dark valley with such ex- 
ulting songs. It is true, that God does not 
give his chosen ones a uniform or an equal joy 
in death. Indeed sometimes they are hurried 
away without a moment's warning. There are 



188 JOY IN DEATH. 

instances in which from the influence of dis- 
ease, or some constitutional timidity, there will 
seem to gather around the soul dark shadows 
to obscure its vision. Nor can we anticipate 
the precise emotions of the pious soul until they 
are experienced. The life is the great criteri- 
on. But seldom however do we see a Chris- 
tian die without some sweet intimations of his 
future felicity. If faith is not triumphant, it is * 
sufficiently strong to give peace. If there are 
no enrapturing foretastes of heaven, there is a 
good hope through grace of its fruition. 

When Bunyan's pilgrims are passing the river 
of death, and have reached the midway current. 
Christian is represented as sinking, and Hope- 
ful as bearing him triumphantly along ; but soon 
they both reach the opposite shore, and are 
welcomed by the celestial messengers. The 
great allegorist intended by this no doubt to 
represent the inequality of joy and triumph 
which Christians experience in the hour of 
death ; but the end with all is the same. The 
dark waters may intimidate ; but cannot over- 



JOY IN DEATH. 



189 



whelm the soul. There may be some misgiv- 
ings ; but never can faith be disappointed ; nor 
Christian hope sink in despair. All will be well 
at last. The bright shores of Heaven will be 
reached in safety ; and the soul, conducted by 
'' shining ones," shall enter the gates of the New 
Jerusalem, and forget all its sorrows in the 
enjoyment of its everlasting rest. 



CHAPTER XXVL 

CONCLUSION. 

Is not the reader prepared now to say, ** Let 
me both live the life and die the death of the 
righteous ?" Is it not evident, that if in a Chris- 
tian's death there is something to be coveted' 
there is also in his life that vsrhich claims our 
imitation ? 

We have aimed to rescue piety from the 
charge of making her votaries gloomy. We 
have endeavored to exhibit her influence, where 
it is allowed an unobstructed sway, as produ- 
cing in the soul a "joy that is unspeakable." 
The impediments to this joy— especially such 
as exist in our day and country — have been 
dwelt upon principally with the design of caution- 
ing Christians against them ; and some circum- 
stances favorable to the developement of pious 
joy have also been noticed, in order that they 
may be fully appreciated and improved. 



CONCLUSION. 191 

As the mind glances back over the whole 
gjround, what is the practical impression ? 
What benefit, dear reader, is to accrue to thy 
soul from these considerations ? Shall the book 
be closed without one holy resolution, or one 
renewed struggle for the kingdom of Heaven ? 
Shall it be like a visjon of the night, that is gone 
when the eye opens upon earthly scenes, and 
that, whether joyous or sad, is viewed only as a 
dream ? Do you expect, after its perusal, to go 
forth into the world with the same unguarded 
heart ; or without breathing up to God one ad- 
ditional prayer for his protection ? Is this little 
volume to plant not one fragrant flower in 
your future path, nor brighten your spiritual 
horizon with one beaming star ? Then indeed 
has it, as it respects any good to you, been writ- 
ten and read in vain. But we will hope " better 
things of you, and things that accompany salva- 
tion.'' 

Are you a professor of religion ; one by 
whom the sacred name of Christ has been 
named ? Then may we hope, that the perusal 



192 CONCLUSION. 

of these pages will have strengthened what is 
good in the soul, and will lead you to unremit- 
ted efforts under God for still greater attain- 
ments. You must be convinced that piety will 
not make you happy in life, nor triumphant in 
death, if you allow her not her legitimate influ- 
ence. She will not suffer the market-men and 
money-changers to sit with her in the temple. 
She must be the sole divinity ; or she will not 
preside at all. God and Mammon can never 
occupy the same heart. Settle it in your mind 
that all compromise for worldly gain or pleas- 
ure is the death of pious joy. That amaran- 
thine flower grows only on Zion's hill, and he 
who plucks it, must toil up the steep ascent, 
and leave the dull earth far behind him. 

If you have been led astray, now is the time 
to retrace your steps. As the sigh of recollect - 
ed but departed joys heaves your bosom, seize 
the favored moment to plead with God, that 
these "joys of salvation" may be restored. 

It is time that Christians evinced more of the 
attractive features of their religion. Its power 



UUI^CLUSION. 193 

to make them happy is but seldom adequately 
tested. We have to appeal too often to the 
fears only of the impenitent. We ought to 
wear so heavenly an aspect as to convince them 
of our superior felicity, and to compel them to 
admit, that, in the comparison, their grovelling 
pleasures are empty and unsatisfying. How 
can we expect them to concede to the beauty — 
I had almost said to the reality — of our religion, 
if its loveliest fruits are not exhibited ? Are 
we willing that souls should be repelled from 
the path of life, because we have obstructed 
its entrance, and withered every fragrant plant 
that grew around its gate-way ? Shall that 
which was given us to attract men to Heaven 
prove the perverted instrument of driving them 
down to Hell ? Shall our lamp go out, or burn 
so dimly as scarce to direct our own steps ; 
whilst, for the want of its light, thousands are 
" stumbling on the dark mountains ?" Christian 
reader, ask and answer these questions to your 
own soul. 

Or is my reader not only not a professor of 



1 94 DONCLUSIOJV. 

religion, but one the convictions of whose con- 
science assure him, that he is not a possessor 
of true piety ? Allow me to ask, if the perusal 
of these pages has not convinced you of at least 
one practical error ; — I mean the very com- 
mon impression that piety robs us of joy and 
felicity ? Perhaps you have not fallen into this 
error. It may be that some very favorable 
specimens of living piety have come under 
your observation, and convinced you that true 
and substantial joy cannot be experienced^ 
apart from religion. Is this your conviction ? 
Why then do you remain where you are ? 
Why attempt to fill yourself with husks, when 
" in your Father^s house thei^ is bread enough 
and to spare ?" 

But if you have stood off at a distance from 
religion, and taken your impressions of its influ- 
ence from some merely nominal professors ; or 
from some who, though truly pious, were afflict- 
ed with a constitutional melancholy, it is to be 
hoped that you will not any more charge upon 



CONCLUSION. 195 

religion, what belongs to some accidental cir- 
cumstance in connexion with it ; or what be- 
longs to our remaining depravity ; or what ought 
in some instances to be charged to downright 
hypocrisy. You must have seen that the Chris- 
tian, with all his admitted faihngs, is the only 
happy man. His religion, where it is not ob- 
structed, does pour sun-shine into his soul. It 
makes life's joys doubly precious, and life's bur- 
dens easy to be borne. And in death, who has 
the advantage then ? Whose dying pillow is 
softest ? Whose dying eye is brightest ? Whose 
prospects for eternity are the most alluring ? 

Take what view you will of this subject — 
view the Christian when and where you will — 
it must be admitted, that to him belongs the only 
foundation of true and substantial joy. With 
this concession, let me ask you, what are your 
own expectations of felicity ? Are you hoping 
to find it in the indulgence of the animal desires? 
Do the pleasures of sense put in a successful 
claim ? Ah, how often has the cup been mixed; 



196 CONCLUSION. 

and as it touched the lip a momentary pleasm^e 
has flashed through the veins. But the soul ex- 
claimed, " This is not happiness." 

You have tried social bliss. Under the ex- 
citement of kindred minds you have seemed to 
enjoy the scene. But solitude has come, and in 
that solitude there was a voice that still spoke of 
misery. 

You have been impelled by the thirst of gain. 
Your success has been all that you anticipated. 
Or, you have " loved the praise of men,'* and 
have obtained it. But as the bright rew^ard 
came into your hand, has not the unsatisfied 
soul still asked — "Is this all?" Every path 
w^hich you have trod has failed to conduct you 
to the long-desired rest. Why is this ? Be- 
cause you have refused the only hand that can 
conduct you to that rest. You have expected 
to find happiness in indulgence ; vs^hereas it is 
to be found in self-denial. You have looked 
for it in the pleasures of the vs^orld ; v^hcn it is 
to be obtained by overcoming the world. You 
have shrunk from the cross of Jesus ; when 



CONCLUSION. 197 

that very cross leads him who bears it to 
Heaven's unending joys. The low^ly spirit you 
have not had. The tear of penitence you have 
not shed. The love of Jesus you have not felt. 
The hope of Heaven has not dav^ned on your 
benighted soul ; nor the Spirit of God breathed 
his peaceful influence there. How then can 
you be happy ? " There is no peace, saith my 
God, to the wicked." If you would be at peace, 
you must go where alone it can be found ; and 
" forsaking all to obtain all," you must say, 

'* Now I renounce my carnal hope , 
My fond desires recall ; 
I give my mortal interest up ; 
And make my God my all," 



FINIS. 



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